In Chaos and Darkness
by DoctorEagle
Summary: Ten years ago, Nakos Nalldiir, the Dragonborn, defeated Mehrunes Dagon and became king of Westeros, alongside Daenerys Targaryen. But now, several new threats have emerged. New threats are born of malice, while old hatreds rekindle, and the fires of war threaten the world once again. Nakos must deal with these dangers before Westeros is once again plunged into chaos and darkness.
1. Changes

**Sundas, the 2nd of Sun's Dusk, 5E 10**

 **King's Landing**

King's Landing was abuzz with celebration and laughter. The streets were bustling with people and guards. The sigils of House Nalldiir, three scimitars were surrounding a shield, on which was the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen, were hanging on banners from almost every window. And everyone had a right to celebrate, it was Lady Nesaerys Nalldiir's tenth Nameday celebration.

The shops, markets, taverns, and whorehouses had never seen so much activity… in a long time, in all senses of the word. The new Dragonborn dynasty had managed to fix many of the problems of the previous rulerships, like the economy, social justice and neglect.

King's Landing itself had expanded and was better streamlined. Beggars were not so much of a problem, as there was always work, food, and money enough for all those who earned it. Those who deliberately chose to be lazy were left to their own devices. The sick and the afflicted were treated at the newly built Temple of the Divines. Businesses thrived on the renewed trade with Tamriel, Essos, and other realms. With the influx of money, Nakos was more than able to pay the Iron Bank back the money it was owed by the previous monarchy, thus ensuring excellent relations with its neighbor across the Narrow Sea.

Though people had been celebrating in advance over the few days before Nesaerys' nameday, the celebration _today_ mostly took place on the tourney grounds. In keeping with the traditions of Westeros, Nakos decided to hold tournaments of all kinds: horse-racing, axe-throwing, archery, jousting, and the melee were amongst them, as well as a few others. There were also a large numbers of side-events, including puppet shows for the children, mummer performances and many others. Vast quantities of food and drink were consumed during the past few days. The blacksmiths were especially busy, sharpening weapons and smithing armor, and they not only made steel weapons, but elven, glass, and ebony weapons as well… for those that could afford it. Nakos kept the secrets for smithing Daedric and dragonbone weapons to himself and those he trusted in the Red Keep, though.

Many nobles from the noble Houses came to King's Landing to celebrate with Nakos and Daenerys. The Starks were there, as well as the Baratheons, and the Tyrells. All of the lords and ladies were there on the tourney grounds watching and waiting in glee for the events to begin. When a horn blew, everyone stood and bowed as Nakos and Daenerys entered and took their seats under the royal pavilion, which was surrounded by the Royal Guard. Nakos took his seat and Dany sat next to him, along with Nesaerys and Rhaelor, their son, who was born a little less than two years after Nesaerys. Like his sister, he too had a mixed complexion. But his hair was a white blond, like his mother, and he had the brown eyes of his father. And like both his parents, he had the ability of a Dragonborn.

Nakos' adopted children, Sofie and Alesan, were also with them. Alesan sat next to Nakos, while Sofie sat next to Daenerys. They adjusted very well to life in Westeros when they arrived ten years ago, and were justifiably surprised when they learned their adoptive father had become king. Not that it bothered them. It meant that they would be treated as royalty, which they admitted was even more than Nakos had treated them while they lived in Skyrim. And it was certainly a step up from being orphans and being treated like dirt in Skyrim. Both Sofie and Alesan were now seventeen years old, and both had had their fair share of proposals from young nobles... Sofie, especially. Nakos left it up to Sofie to decide, but she turned down every single man who offered his hand in marriage.

Alesan also caught the attention of many a noble lady… and a few men, in Westeros and during the festivals, he had been invited to visit their castles. Alesan claimed not to have any interest, but Nakos could see that he had his eye on Stannis Baratheon's daughter, Shireen Baratheon.

The sounding of the horns meant that the events were about to start. The herald stepped forward and Nakos heard a few whispers coming from the crowd when they saw he was an elf, a tall Bosmer to be exact. But it did not seem to faze him as he held up a hand and stood tall. "My lords," He bowed the nobles that all stood on one side. "My ladies!" He then turned to face the commoners, "And everyone else here _not_ sitting on a cushion!" Cheers and laughs rang out from the crowd, including the nobles. "No offense to His Grace," he added quickly, and everyone laughed. "Today, you are all here… before the Hero of Westeros. The King of the Andals and of the First Men. And you all have the pride, the privilege… nay, the pleasure, to stand here with him. For he sees you all as equals!" More cheers. "Today, we celebrate the tenth nameday of Lady Nesaerys Targaryen! And to continue the celebrations, we have several tournaments and events for your viewing pleasure! Axe-throwing! Horse-racing! Archery! The melee! And of course, jousting!" At the mention of each event, the people gave one short but loud cheer, and cheered together when he mentioned jousting.

"Let us begin with the axe-throwing competition! The first contestant, Roddy Rivers!"

There was sparse applause as the large man walked forward and took an axe from the table. Getting into position and getting a running start, he threw the axe into the target log, just missing the middle dot by a few inches to the left.

"And now," the herald announced. "His opponent, Valdimar!"

There was more applause for the Nord as he took up a balanced steel throwing axe from the table and got into position. The Nord spellsword knew he had a tough throw to beat him out. Valdimar tensed his legs and using an unconventional throw, he threw the axe _under-armed_ , spinning the axe on the opposite direction. The throw swung true, striking the target dead center. Cheers erupted from the crown and Valdimar raised his hands high in victory.

"The winner of the axe-throwing competition… is Valdimar!" declared the herald, who presented Valdimar with an enchanted dragonbone battleaxe.

"My gift to you, Valdimar!" Nakos called from his seat in the pavilion.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Valdimar bowed low and proudly strapped the battleaxe to his back.

"Why did Valdimar through the axe like that?" Sofie asked.

"I honestly do not know," Nakos answered, "but it worked for him."

"But I doubt it would work in a battle," the young Nord girl retorted with a smirk.

"True," Nakos agreed, but said no more as the herald announced the next event: horse-racing. He was surprised when Sofie got up. "You didn't tell me you were participating."

She only shrugged. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

 _It certainly is one_ , Nakos thought, but he smiled, actually proud of her. "Ride well, daughter." And ride she did. The course took them all around the outskirts of King's Landing and she beat all of the other contestants, who were all men. Of course, they were all disappointed that they had lost to a woman.

"And what shall the prize be for Sofie, Your Grace?" the herald asked.

Nakos thought for a moment, then smirked. "I will give you permission to ride Shadowmere, provided he allows you on his back."

Sofie squealed and ran to hug her father. "Thank you, thank you," she exclaimed and returned to her seat as the herald announced the archery contest.

Nakos smiled and turned to Alesan, "Should I expect a surprise from you as well?"

Alesan smiled and stood, but was equally surprised when his father stood as well. "Really?"

Nakos shrugged. "You didn't think I would pass up an archery contest, did you?"

The herald stumbled on his words when he noticed Nakos among them, but quickly composed himself. "First, Aiden of House Penrose."

Aiden nocked an arrow and aimed, but it was well right of the bull's eye. He cursed to himself and shot another arrow with the same result. Another went wide left, and the last fell short. Several people in the crowd snickered, but stopped once Nakos looked their general direction. When Aiden was done, a sympathetic applause came from the crowd, led by Daenerys.

"Next, Alesan, of House Nalldiir," the herald said.

Alesan proudly stepped up and nocked an arrow. Taking a deep breath, he let it loose and it struck just left of the bulls-eye. The second hit below the first. The third hit below the bulls-eye and the last hit just right. Applause came from the crowd.

"Next, Anguy of the Riverlands."

The man truly impressed Nakos as he took arrow after arrow and send them into the bulls-eye with quick succession. Gasps of surprise and astonishment came from the crowd followed by applause. He turned to Nakos and winked, "You have quite a feat ahead of you, Your Grace."

"Yes," Nakos feigned nervousness. "It appears so."

The herald straightened his back. "And now, His Grace! Nakos of House Nalldiir. King of the Seven Kingdoms!"

All applauded as Nakos calmly walked up and did the same feat as Anguy had did, if not faster. The response was the same for him as it was for Anguy. Nakos looked back at the man and winked.

"Ummm…. the….." the herald stammered, not sure who to announce as the winner.

"Give the prize to him," Nakos said, smiling at Anguy. "He earned it."

Now it was Anguy who was taken aback. He got on one knee, "Thank you, Your Grace."

Nakos smiled and handed an ebony bow to Anguy. "I smithed it myself."

Anguy's eyes went wide when he saw it and he ran his hands over the bow, admiring the craftsmanship. "A beautiful bow. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Nakos replied as he and Alesan went back to their seats under the pavilion, and as they made their way back, he saw Alesan steal a glance and wink towards Shireen Baratheon. The daughter of Stannis was about his age, and still bore the remnants of the grayscale that almost killed her. A patch of gray, dry skin ran down one cheek and the side of her neck. But that did not take away from her beauty. Shireen smiled and gave a small curtsey back to Alesan.

As they took their seats, Nesaerys seemed confused. "Why didn't you take the prize for yourself, Father?" she asked. "You easily won."

"We performed equally well, Nesy," Nakos answered. "But I am a humble man. I do not need any more accolades than I already have."

Nesaerys seemed a little confused by his answer, but said nothing as the herald announced the melee. Several men came forward, all of them were heavily armored… all but two, which didn't surprise Nakos. Bronn and Oberyn Martell were not ones to use heavy armor. Leather would have been good enough for them if they had the choice. Bronn elected to keep his dragonscale armor while Oberyn wore glass armor, a gift from Nakos a few years back.

The fight was long, but entertaining. Both Bronn and Oberyn used their lithe builds and quickness to their advantage, and beat all their opponents until there was just the two of them left. They circled each other, feeling each other out. But soon the bout began. Both Bronn and Oberyn were very evenly matched and it was unclear who had the upper hand. Then, in a quick succession of strikes, Bronn seemed to gain the advantage. His quick attacks forced Oberyn to quickly back away as he continued to block them. But then Oberyn spun his spear in a circle, knocking Bronn's sword out of his hands. Quick as a snake, he lunged with the butt end of his spear hitting Bronn in the chest.

The armor stopped most of the brunt of the blow, but it was still surprisingly strong and knocked some of the wind out of Bronn. Before he knew it, Oberyn had the blade of the spear at Bronn's neck. Bronn lifted his hands. "I suppose this is the part where I should yield."

"Indeed, Ser Bronn," Oberyn said with a smirk.

Nakos and the rest of the people applauded, but when he looked at Dany and his children, he noticed Nesaerys had her attention elsewhere, her violet eyes glowing. Following her gaze, he smirked when he saw who she was looking at: Eddard Stark, Robb Stark's son. Eddard was a few months older than her, and had a large tuft of brown hair, looking a lot like Robb Stark. Eddard was also staring back at her, smirking. When his eyes fell on Nakos, Nakos decided to have some fun with the young boy and furrowed his brow at him. Eddard went white and turned away in embarrassment. Nakos chuckled. _It's like Rhaegar and Lyanna all over again, only under better circumstances_ , Nakos thought to himself as he nodded to Robb Stark and his wife Talisa.

Catelyn and Sansa Stark were there as well, both recently returned from Skyrim. Catelyn had passed her title of Jarl to someone else and returned to Westeros and Winterfell. Sansa Stark graduated from the College of Winterhold and was now a Master of Destruction and Conjuration Magic. She never displayed her abilities in public, though. Magic was still a new thing to Westeros, and the new Wolfswood College of Magic in the North was still met with tension. This college was specifically for those from Tamriel who wanted to live in the North, but still wanted to develop their innate magic abilities. Arya Stark was nowhere to be seen with her family, but Nakos knew she was close by, no doubt hiding in the shadows.

"I'm surprised you didn't enter the melee, Your Grace," Robb said when they made eye contact.

"It wouldn't have been a fair fight, Lord Stark," Nakos replied with a mischievous grin. "For any of the combatants."

"Finally!" the herald called out, his voice quieting the crowd. "The event you've all been waiting for." The elf paused for dramatic effect. "The joust!" The grounds were filled with cheers as at least sixteen knights lined up. Nakos saw sigils from several Houses: Stark, Baratheon, Tyrell, Payne, Dayne, Penrose, and a few others. The knights got off their horses and bowed low.

"Proceed!" Nakos said, eliciting more cheers. The jousting event was to be a bracket single-elimination tournament. The first two contestants were Ser Kober of House Manwoody and Ser Craige of House Oakheart. They took their places on either side of the divider and at the signal ran at each other. Ser Craige's lance broke off of Ser Kober's body, earning him a point. On their next run, Ser Craige knocked his opponent off his horse, thus winning his round.

As the rest of the event played out, lords and ladies began placing bets on who would win. The jousting was the longest event, but soon it was Ser Loras Tyrell who ended up winning. As the crowds cheered, he carefully approached the pavilion, and when Nakos allowed him closer, He gave a wreath of flowers to Sofie, who blushed a bright red.

Loras' victory marked the end of the events, and the lords and ladies began to disperse back into the city for the rest of the celebration and other events, but Nakos and Dany spent some time talking with the lords and ladies who remained. He soon came across Lady Margaery and Lady Olenna of House Tyrell.

"My ladies," Nakos kissed the hands of both the women.

"Your Grace," Margaery bowed. "How have you been?"

"Well, thank you," Nakos replied. "Lady Olenna, I am glad to see you are still as healthy as ever."

"I'm glad you do," the Queen of Thorns replied. "I know of many who would have liked to see me die of old age. I am glad to disappoint them."

"As am I," Nakos said with a chuckle. The older Tyrell woman had not changed a bit, still sharp with her tongue as ever. He looked at Loras. "Your brother rode well, Lady Margaery."

"As he always had," the former queen replied. "He won his last jousting contest here when it was King Robert Baratheon's nameday, and he fought well during the Battle of King's Landing."

Nakos could tell there was something they wanted to ask him. "My ladies, there is no reason to play the Game with me. You wish to ask something of me."

Margaery chuckled. "Forgive me, Your Grace. It has been a while since we had a true, _honest_ ruler. My grandmother and I wished to ask a favor of you, but we did not know how to proceed." She paused for a moment. "We wished to know if it were possible for Ser Loras to serve in the Royal Guard."

"And you hesitated because of Ser Loras'... tendencies," Nakos completed their thought.

"I suppose I shouldn't bother asking how you knew," Olenna replied a little harsher than she meant.

"What my grandmother means," Margaery piped up quickly, "was that we did not think you would approve.

Nakos only shrugged. "I lost count of how many couples I've seen in Skyrim who were of the same gender. Different race, perhaps. But the same gender, nonetheless. If Ser Loras wishes, I can consider adding him to the Royal Guard. No promises, though. If not in the Royal Guard, then he will definitely have a place in the City Guard."

Margaery and Olenna seemed to breathe a bit easier. "Thank you, Your Grace."

Nakos wanted to keep the conversation going with other nobles, but one look from Tyrion told him otherwise. It was a look that meant the Royal Council needed to meet… and now.

* * *

"I apologize for taking you away from your daughter's Nameday celebration, Your Grace," Tyrion said as he waddled toward the Royal Council room in the Red Keep, Nakos and Dany following close behind.

"I will try and apologize to her tonight," Nakos sighed. "I only hope she will understand." They soon reached the Royal Council room, where the rest of the council waited. When Nakos and Dany walked in, they stood to their feet and bowed.

"What was so urgent that you had to tell me now?" Nakos asked as he took his seat at the head of the table, Dany sitting beside him.

Varys slid letters towards them. Nakos opened them as he spoke. "Messages from our little birds in Essos," Varys said. "There have been reports of revolts in Meereen and the other slave cities. There was even a few men who tried to take power and declare themselves king."

"I assume these men were... taken care of," Dany asked, and everyone knew what she meant.

Brynjolf chuckled. "Of course. Even though you two don't have royal authority over them, our messages were more than enough for them to… abdicate their power. There was one stubborn man, Ashkan Kumaana, who took power in Yunkai. But the Dark Brotherhood saw to him, and made it look like he was killed by his own men."

"And how much did we have to pay them?" Urag gro-Shub, the Master of Coin, asked. When he first came to King's Landing, he received several looks of fear. That was understandable, considering he was an orc. But since his position kept him in the books and out of the eyes of many others, almost everyone, besides the Royal Council, forgot he existed… and he liked it. "I assume their asking price was very high."

"Not exactly," Nakos answered. "We have some… influence with the Dark Brotherhood and Faceless Men. They are in our debt." Of course, Nakos was not about to tell him the truth. The Dark Brotherhood were only too glad to help Nakos and end all threats to him and Westeros and to the work he had done.

"But are the rumors true?" Dercin, the new Grand Maester asked. He was not as old as Pycelle, and still had hair, which wrapped around his head like a horseshoe. "I've heard that these two despicable groups have joined together."

"That, I do not know," Nakos lied, so as not to draw unwanted attention. "I find it better to not ask too many questions of assassin groups. They prefer anonymity." In truth, Nakos had brought the two groups together. It made sense, the Faceless Men were once part of Dark Brotherhood, after all.

The Dark Brotherhood had sanctuaries spread out around the world, in Tamirel, Westeros, Essos, and elsewhere. Of course, only members of the Dark Brotherhood knew about them. If a Brother or Sister needed a safe haven or lodgings, they could visit the closest sanctuary. It was rumored that a group of sanctuaries in Essos came together and dove deep into the arcane arts. Though they were technically still part of the Dark Brotherhood, they became known as the Faceless Men to those around them because of their newfound ability to change their facial appearance entirely.

"Isn't it your job to know?" Dercin asked, not trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

Nakos was unintimidated. He wished that he had no need of a Grand Maester, but such were the ways of Westeros. Not many things were easily changeable. "They are the Dark Brotherhood and the Faceless Men, Grand Maester. They do not tell their secrets to those outside their organization. How am I to know what they do?"

"The Dark Brotherhood are from Tamriel, are they not?" Dercin snapped back.

"And they tried to _kill_ me on more than one occasion. I think that tells you all you need to know about what they think of me." That was the truth, but that was _before_ Nakos became the Listener and leader of the assassin group. Nakos' glare told Dercin to end the argument and the old man relented. But Nakos could see in his face that there was more he wanted to say.

Stannis Baratheon, the Master of Laws, cleared his throat. "Then what do you suppose we do? Our laws do not extend across the Narrow Sea to Essos, and there are always more men like Ashkan who will rise up and try to overthrow the leaders you placed there."

"And you cannot always rely on assassins, Your Grace," Dercin spoke up. "They work for money, and only money. I hope you don't expect to keep paying assassins when a problem arises. We will soon be in debt again, and the Kingdom will not approve of their King associating with known scum."

Nakos sighed, feigning defeat. "Very well," he looked to Brynjolf and Varys. "Keep an eye on those assassins, and make sure they don't try anything. I have faith you can do that." The look he gave them were only understood by those two. They knew he meant the exact opposite. _If any more trouble arises, make sure the assassins deal with it_ , he was saying.

"Certainly, Your Grace," Varys said, bowing his head. Brynjolf nodded as well.

"Changing the subject," Dany said, turning to Theon Greyjoy, the Master of Ships, and Rikke, Commander of the Royal Army. "How goes our Royal Navy and Army?"

"Very well," Rikke said with a smile. "Sorine has managed to teach all our military blacksmiths how to smith better weapons and armor. They can now smith with ebony. She has also built dwarven ballistas for our infantry."

"She has also managed to build larger dwarven ballistas to fit onto our ships," Theon said with a smile. "We have yet to try them in actual warfare, though, but if I am confident they will be effective."

"That's good to hear," Nakos gave a smile of his own. "Is there anything else?" No one responded. "Very well, this council is over." As the members stood and began to leave, Nakos called out to a member in particular. "Tyrion. Would you mind remaining here for a moment?"

Tyrion nodded and waited until the rest of the members were gone. "Well, Your Grace. You face your biggest threat since Dagon," he said with a wry smile. "And yet you don't seem to have lost your ability to lead."

"This is nothing compared to Dagon," Nakos said with a chuckle.

"Are you sure?" Tyrion didn't seem to believe him. "You're not just leading an army now. You're leading a whole country. Quite a difference."

"I've been leading this country for ten years."

"And yet during that time, you have not met with much heavy resistance or trouble until now," Tyrion replied.

"What do you suggest we do?" Dany asked. "When I was in Essos, I fought so that no child born into Slaver's Bay would ever know what it meant to be bought or sold. I will continue that fight."

"You've taken the right step already," answered the Imp. "But it may not be enough." He looked at Nakos. "I thought you hated assassins."

"I do," Nakos replied. "But sometimes you must do things you don't like in order to protect the innocent, as I am sure all three of us can attest to, as can Varys and Brynjolf."

Tyrion nodded, following Nakos' reasoning. "I am sure Varys did what he had to do to survive. He did a lot of other things as well, things he didn't have to do. I suspect he's the main reason Dany wasn't slaughtered in her crib."

"And you trust him," Dany said. It wasn't a question.

"He may be the only person in the world I trust, besides you two, of course."

"Good. Then I am confident you can make sure that word of these assassins does not leak to the public."

Tyrion smiled. "Leave it to me, Your Grace."

* * *

 **Tirdas, the 4th of Sun's Dusk, 5E 10**

 **Braavos, Essos**

Maeros Sorrel, the Sealord of Braavos, stood at the window of the top of the Sealord's Palace as several ships had recently arrived into the harbor. They were not flying any sigil or standard, and that alone raised his suspicions. Piracy was rampant in the Narrow Sea and the other surrounding seas, and many witnesses had always said that the offending ships did not fly any standard or sigil. He had his men investigate the ships and look for any known pirates in the area, in case the ships belonged to them.

"Have you found anything?" Maeros asked Belyrio Maegiris, when he had returned.

"The ships do not belong to any pirates, Sealord," Belyrio replied, surprise palpable in his voice.

Maeros turned from the window to face the man. "Then who do they belong to?"

"Strange men and women wearing stranger garb. I've never seen their like, not since the battle with the devils beyond the Wall."

Maeros looked surprised. "From Tamriel?"

"Indeed," Belyrio nodded. "The ones with golden skin and pointed ears. And they say they're here to see _you_."

Maeros' eyebrows raised in surprise. "Me? What in the Seven Hells for?"

"They would not say. But they said it was of the utmost importance."

Maeros wondered why more people from Tamirel would be here. He knew that many of them stayed in Westeros, but here? In Essos? In Braavos? He should find out, and then send word to King's Landing. "Send them in, Belyrio."

A few moments later, two tall, thin Altmer walked in. "Welcome, friends, to the Free City of Braavos," Maeros greeted them. "I am Maeros Sorrel, the Sealord of Braavos."

One of the elves walked forward. He was slightly taller than the rest and carried himself as if he was in charge. "Greetings, Sealord. I am Ancano, Thalmor Justiciar and Emissary of the Third Aldmeri Dominion."

Maeros gestured to the open seats. "Please, sit, Lord Ancano. What brings you to Braavos?"

Ancano took a seat and crossed his legs. "Nakos sent us."

"The King of Westeros?" Maeros couldn't believe his ears.

Ancano looked at his fellow Thalmor, Neldur, and tilted his head. "King Nakos didn't tell you," he stated rather than asked.

The Sealord cast his glance between the two Altmer. "Tell me what?"

Ancano and Neldur chuckled. "Westeros wishes to establish trade," Neldur answered. "As does Tamriel. We already have avenues of trade with the Iron Bank and many of the other Free Cities, but we have yet to make official contact with yourself, or many places further east. What say you?"

Maeros tented his fingertips. "What exactly would these… avenues of trade entail?"

"Resources, weapons," Ancano shrugged. "Whatever was being traded during the War of Westeros." Ancano then leaned forward. "And information."

Maeros' interest was piqued. "What kind of information?"

The two elves laughed. "You don't expect us to tell you that without some assurance, did you?" Ancano asked.

The Sealord sighed. "Of course not." _Even these foreigners know how to play the Game_ , he thought. "What does the King want in return?"

"Just your co-operation," Neldur replied.

"He had my co-operation during the War of Westeros," Maeros replied with a shrug. "And he still has it, though I am sure he does not expect us to bend the knee. We are one of the Free Cities, after all."

"Oh no, nothing of that nature," Ancano said with a wave of his hand. "We were hoping to create a more permanent alliance is all. Free trade agreements would do wonders for the economies of both our nations. The specific information we require is nothing dire, I can assure you."

Maeros bit his lips in thought. "I cannot make such a large decision right at this moment. Not after we have only just met. Call me untrustworthy if you wish, but allow me to think on it. In the meantime," the Sealord stood. "I invite you to stay in Braavos and extend my hospitality. I would like to extend an invitation for you to dine with me tonight. Perhaps we can talk more, then."

Ancano and Neldur exchanged a glance and a smile. "We graciously accept."

* * *

 **Tirdas, the 4th of Sun's Dusk, 5E 10**

 **Red Keep, King's Landing**

Nakos and the rest of his family sat in their private dining room, enjoying a dinner of grilled goat and beef, chicken pie, beef stew, green salad, and wine for Nakos and Dany, and the older children, Sofie and Alesan. The younger children, Nesaerys was given some sweetwater, and Rhaelor was given some warm milk.

Tyrion and Cersei sat alongside Olenna, Margaery, and Loras Tyrell, while on the opposite side of the table sat the Stark Family: Robb, Talisa, Robb's son Eddard, Catelyn, Sansa, Arya, Bran, and Rickon. Robb was now almost thirty years old, but still looked as young as he did when Nakos met him. Sansa was now about twenty-six and sat gracefully at the table. Arya was a little younger, about twenty-three. It was still a little weird for Nakos seeing her in normal clothes; he normally saw her in her Dark Brotherhood garb. Bran was about Sofie's and Alesan's age, about seventeen and Rickon had recently turned fifteen.

"Thank you for the invitation, Your Grace," Catelyn Stark said with a smile of satisfaction.

"You're quite welcome, Lady Stark," Nakos replied. "I'm glad to have you here in King's Landing, and under better circumstances. I'm sure the last time you were here, things were not as cheerful. For any of you."

"No, they weren't," Lady Catelyn admitted. "But times have changed for the better, especially since your arrival to Westeros."

Nakos smiled at the memory. It had been a long time since he had came to Westeros to investigate the White Walkers. "I hope to continue to change this world for the better."

"So," Catelyn turned to his adopted children. "How are you adjusting to life in King's Landing?"

"Well, my lady," Sofie said with a smile and bow of her head. "It's been strange. I've never had a hand-maiden or people waiting on me before. But I am glad to be back here with my father."

Tyrion grinned. "I had heard Lydia did look after you and your brother quite well during Nakos' extended absence befor the War beyond the Wall. Imagine a Royal Guard as a handmaiden." Chuckles rippled across the table.

"Good thing she isn't here to hear that," Nakos replied. "She would toss you across the room."

"Oh," Tyrion's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Is dwarf-tossing a thing in Skyrim?" More laughter.

"Speaking of Skyrim," Lady Olenna piped up. "Lady Sansa. Lady Arya. I heard you two were living there for quite some time."

"We have, Lady Olenna," Sansa answered. "Though I am glad to be back home."

"Is it true what they say?" the Queen of Thorns. "That you are leader of that… magic college in the North."

All eyes were on Sansa. "I have been receiving some help from my teachers and tutors from Tamriel. But yes, I run the day-to-day operations for the new Wolfswood College."

"Huh," Olenna huffed. "What interesting times we live in. I never thought I would see the day that foreigners from Tamriel would be living among us. Where is it they live again?"

Tyrion knew that she knew, but decided to oblige her. "Some live in the Crownlands, but most of the Nords live in the North. And all of them have some innate knowledge of magic. I think Sansa here is the only non-Tamrielian who knows their kind of magic."

"And what of you, Lady Arya?" Margaery asked after a brief moment of silence. "What have you done during your time there?"

After stealing a glance at Nakos, she smiled. "Well, my initial time there was to escape the Lannisters, but I learned a few things while I was there, such as self defense and learning how to use a blade. King Nakos also helped me learn a few things, like tracking and scouting."

Lady Olenna raised her eyebrows. "Why on earth would you need to learn any of those things?"

"Skyrim is not like Westeros, Lady Olenna," Nakos explained. "It is very dangerous there and every person is better off knowing how to wield a sword or a weapon of any kind."

"Besides," Arya added, "if there is one thing I've learned from both my initial time here in King's Landing, and in Skyrim, it's that a woman who does not pick up a sword can still die at the end of one. I personally don't want to feel helpless in the face of someone who wants to kill me or my family ever again."

"A very noble motivation," Loras said with a smile.

"Indeed," Robb nodded. "I had my reservations before when I saw Arya training in Riverrun with Laniel. But now, I thank Nakos that he _has_ trained her."

"What about you, Lady Catelyn," Dany asked. "Has anything of note happened during your time in Skyrim?"

"After taking over the Jarlship of the Rift, the only thing of note that I managed to do before the War against Dagon was help stop an illicit narcotics smuggling trade," Catelyn replied. "But after Dagon's defeat, all I wanted to do was return to Winterfell to ensure that my family were all right. At the time, I had thought that Bran and Rickon were dead and I feared for Robb and Talisa being left all alone with Sansa and Arya in Skyrim with me. With Jon at the Wall, Robb had no family left to turn to, besides my own House Tully. Once the War ended, I gave up my position as Jarl and returned home."

"Where _were_ you two, anyway?" Nakos asked, his interest piqued. He had not known about Bran before he met him North of the Wall with Jon, and did not know about their ordeal with Theon Greyjoy until after the War was over.

Bran cleared his throat. "For the most part, since we escaped Winterfell, we traveled with Jojen and Meera Reed to the North of the Wall. My dreams told me to go there. After a few weeks, I split ways with Rickon. He went west with Osha, a wildling and the Reeds, Hodor, and I continued our journey. It took a while, but eventually we made it and that was where I met Nocturnal. She told me that Rickon was safe and staying with the Umbers. A few weeks after that, I met you."

"It seems the gods are smiling down on your family, Lady Catelyn," Tyrion said with a smile and sipped his wine. "Who knows what would have happened had Nakos and his friends not been here."

Robb shook his head. "I wonder how it would have been if he had arrived earlier. Before Father or King Robert had been killed."

"Or perhaps Jon Arryn," Catelyn added.

"I had heard how Eddard was executed," Nakos said somberly. "And I had often thought about how things would have been different had I been there to stop it. But I think that despite your father being alive, war would still have been the outcome, and we would still be where we are now… even with your father here." He leaned forward. "That would not have changed the fact that Dagon was north of the Wall. Still, Eddard and Robert's deaths caused a fracture in the Seven Kingdoms that was almost impossible to heal and get people focused on the real threat Dagon had posed. If anything, we were lucky that Tommen could see enough sense to end the War of Five Kings when he did."

"But now we have the future to look forward to." Tyrion said and looked to his sister. "Cersei. You have been quiet this whole time. Nothing to say?"

Cersei managed a weak smile. "What is there to say, dear brother?" she replied, looking at her little brother, and avoiding everyone else's gaze. "You got what you wanted, Your Grace," she said, finally looking at Nakos. "It's panning out better than even you could have imagined. Meanwhile I lived as a glorified maid for eight years because King Joffrey couldn't control his impulses and listen to me."

"That may be true," Nakos replied calmly. "But you are not totally absolved from your own sins and actions."

Cersei glared at Nakos. "When you are raised solely by Tywin Lannister, and you get to hear nothing but his obsession over his legacy every single day, while watching as he degenerates into a cold, unfeeling man before your very eyes, _Your Grace_ , then _maybe_ you would have the right to cast judgement over what I had to do."

"Allying with Mephala was not something influenced by your father," Nakos said firmly. " _That_ was a decision all on your own."

"Wrong. She did come before me... when I was vulnerable. I was angry after that assassin killed Joffrey, and tried to kill me. I thought you were the one who sent him. Everyone on the Small Council didn't want to antagonize you, so they opted to leave you alone in Meereen, and I was angry. Then Lady Mala, as the Daedra posed herself as, came before me, and offered to bring Joffrey back to me."

"Necromancy," Nakos huffed. "You would stoop so low to that?"

"I didn't even know of necromancy at the time," Cersei defended herself. "Joffrey was dead. At the hands of an assassin from Skyrim. And you having the only personal grudge against Joff from that country made me suspect you had sent the assassin. The Council and my father's wise advice to King Tommen was 'Do Nothing.'"

Cersei took a sip of wine and continued. "Mala came and offered me a way to get Joffrey back from the grave. The only price she had, was that I had to remove one of your staunchest supporters from King's Landing. At the time, I was so distraught over my son's death and the council's unwillingness to seek justice, I didn't see any other choice."

Cersei then looked at each parent sitting at the table. "You can't tell me that none of you would have considered the offer had you been in my place. If someone took your child away from any of you. If an enemy came into your very home and poisoned or stabbed one of yours in the night, you would do whatever it took to claim your revenge, or regain what was lost, no matter how impossible it sounded."

Everyone was silent for a moment as they regarded Cersei's words. Then Catelyn spoke. "You may be right. I may have done whatever it took to claim my revenge. _However_ , revenge usually comes back and does more harm to you than good, as you have seen when Mephala tried to kill _everyone_ in King's Landing, including you."

Tyrion placed a hand on his sister's wrist to keep her from saying something she would regret. "I am sure we have all done things we regret," he said, obviously trying to diffuse the situation.

Cersei's eyes were on her younger brother, the very man she had betrayed most directly with her actions, and still he was trying to calm her down and protect her. Her emotions began to well in her eyes, and she turned away and went to stand up. "If you will all excuse me…" she said quietly and turned to leave.

Nakos sighed to himself. "You should see to your sister, Lord Tyrion."

"Yes," Tyrion hopped down from his seat. "I suppose I should." With a bow to the remaining nobles, he waddled to the door where his sister had left.

The Tyrells exchanged puzzled looks, then the Queen of Thorns turned to Nakos. "It would seem some things may never change, Your Grace. Now, have you considered our proposal? Of Ser Loras serving in the Royal Guard?"

Nakos leaned forward again and rested his head on his folded hands. "Tell me, Ser Loras. Is this what you truly want?"

Loras nodded adamantly. "It is, Your Grace. You saved all our lives. It's only right that I serve with the men and women whose purpose is to protect yours. And I am glad that you are not judgmental about my… tendencies. Not many lords or kings would want a man like me close to them."

"And what of the City Guard?" Dany asked. "Would you have any objection to serving there?"

"Speaking honestly, Your Graces," Loras replied. "I feel I would be of better service in the Royal Guard. Patrolling the city is not something I would want to do for so long."

Nakos and Dany exchanged a glance. "Very well. I would be honored for you to join the Royal Guard. We can always use someone like you."

"Thank you, Your Graces," Loras said with a bow of his head.

"I think it's time we excused ourselves, now," Olenna said, standing. "It has been a pleasure, Your Graces." The Tyrells bowed and left.

"Sofie, Alesan," Dany spoke up. "Would you see your siblings to bed?" When Sofie led them away, Nesaerys tried to steal a glance back at Eddard, but her attempt did not go unnoticed, and Nakos could see the Starks trying to hide their amusement.

"Sansa." Robb began to say, but the Stark girl knew what he was going to say.

"Come on, Arya. Bran, Rickon, Eddard." Sansa led her siblings away.

"I suppose you know what I mean to talk about," Nakos said with a smirk.

"Unifying our Houses," Robb replied with a smile. "First the Tarths and now us, the Starks. Should we expect another House to join the fold?" They laughed at the jest.

"I think it makes sense for our Houses to join," Dany explained. "Though your cousin Ser Jon is a product of a non-blessed union between Rhaegar and your aunt Lyanna, I do not think that should stop a true union."

"Agreed," Catelyn said. "And if I were to be honest, knowing the truth about Jon Stark helped me to breathe easier. Now I no longer have to hold all that hostility towards my husband and towards Jon."

"But of course, I would not want to do anything without your say in it," Nakos replied. "If you disagree, I would not hold any animosity towards you."

"Who am I to refuse the Hero of Westeros?" Robb said with a big smile. "I assume you want Nesaerys to marry Eddard."

Both Nakos and Dany nodded. "But they are still both young. Only ten years old. They would not be married for another five years, at least. But we can make the plans in advance."

"I just hope they agree to it of their own choice. I would hate to have them think we made such an important decision for them," Catelyn said in a slight somber tone as she recalled one of the conversations she had with Nakos where he explained how marriage worked in Tamriel. The thoughts of her own house, House Tully, was that their family members could be wedded off to solidify alliances regardless of the feelings of the people to be wed themselves. It was their duty as members of a house to do this. But in Tamriel, marriage was formed out of a union of love, not political advantage.

"From the looks they've given each other, I think they would agree," Dany said with a smirk. "But as my lord husband said, they are still young. We will see how they feel a few years' from now. But it is something to keep in mind."

* * *

 **Tirdas, the 4th of Sun's Dusk, 5E 10**

 **Braavos, Essos**

After a fulfilling dinner with the Thalmor representatives, Maeros made his way to his study chambers with Belyrio. They had talked about possible trade resources and weapons. But the Thalmor were still silent on what kind of information they were willing to trade.

"Well, that was about as enlightening as expected," Maeros huffed impatiently.

"We found out next to nothing about these visitors," Belyrio scowled. "Do you wonder what information they are looking for, my lord?"

"No, and I hate not knowing. They may be from Tamriel, but I felt uneasy around them. I didn't feel this way around the others from that country." Maeros then looked at Belyrio with an uneasy expression. "I have a bad feeling about these Thalmor. Send a message to King Nakos, find out if he knows anything about them."

Belyrio nodded and walked down the other end of the hallway while Maeros continued to make his way to his study. As he opened the door, he has met with the cold wind that blowing in from an open window. He cursed to himself for leaving the window open and crossed over to close it. Before Maeros could get to the window, he felt movement behind him. He quickly turned around, but saw no one.

When he turned back, he jumped in surprise when he saw Ancano standing in front of him. "Oh! Lord Ancano. You startled me!"

"Sealord Maeros," Ancano said rather monotonically. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, yes. I just was not expecting you to be here. I thought you had retired for the night."

"Why would I retire when there is much work to do?"

Maeros furrowed his brow and walked to his desk. "I thought we discussed what we needed to at length over dinner." It wasn't a question.

"We did," Ancano said calmly. "But I did have a question."

Maeros sighed impatiently. "And what question is that?"

"Why would you need to send ravens to King Nakos?"

Maeros' heart skipped a beat, but he kept himself calm. "You have been spying on me." Again, it wasn't a question.

Ancano shrugged. "I spy on all those who could be potential allies," his face turned into a sneer ever so slightly. "Or enemies. We Thalmor value our allies, and terminate our enemies."

Maeros stared at the Altmer. "So what am I? Ally? Or enemy?"

"It depends," Ancano walked forward menacingly. "What will be in the letters you plan to send to Nakos?"

Maeros scowled deeply. "Nothing that should be of any concern to you, Ancano. Suspiciously, you seem to be rather defensive about King's Landing, don't you think? One would think that you have something to hide from the man who supposedly sent you here."

"Careful now, Sealord," Ancano grinned, but there was evil behind it. "You do not wish to be making accusations blindly on a visiting dignitary, would you?"

"Why? Am I beginning to make sense?"

Ancano huffed and smirked coldly. "Not at all, but you humans are always overeager to embrace convenient half-truths when they suit your purposes." The Altmer sighed slightly. "But, it seems you would be more useful to us as a corpse rather than an ally after all…"

Before Maeros could reply or react, Ancano drew his Justiciar Saber and with the tip, sliced the Sealord's throat open. Maeros gurgled and grasped at the oozing wound, but it was of no use. Blood continued to pour as Maeros fell to the floor, gurgling, until he fell silent.

"Do not worry, former Sealord of Braavos. Your murderers shall be brought to Justice in the name of the Thalmor," Ancano said coldly to Maeros' cold dead eyes.

Neldar walked through the door. "It is done. Belyrio is dead," he looked at Maeros' body. "And I see the Sealord is, as well."

"Did he manage to send the ravens?"

Neldar shook his head. "I killed him before he could."

"And I assume you left your parchment?"

Neldar nodded. "What about you?"

Ancano chuckled and took out a parchment from his robe. "Here is mine." He placed the parchment on the table. On it was a black handprint, and under it were the words, _We Know_.

Ancano smiled an evil smile. "This diversion should draw Nakos' attention away from our more... _important_ projects, and divide his allies nicely."

The subordinate Justiciar bowed and nodded. "I shall send the first action reports back to Alinor, and give Elenwen an update."

* * *

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _Hello…. and welcome to the first chapter of the sequel to_ _ **Of Kings, Draugr, and Dragons**_ _. I hope you enjoy the journey! Thanks to_ _ **Darkstorm Zero**_ _for co-authoring_ _this chapter with me. We are most likely going to co-author the whole story, so that will save me time from thanking him every chapter. LOL. But in all seriousness, thanks to him and thank you all my followers! Stay tuned for more chapters!_

 _ **Darkstorm Zero:**_ _Hehehe, well, as I predicted, the awesome adventures of Nakos and House Nalldiir shall continue well into the future. We all hope you enjoy the experience, and hopefully answer some of your questions left from the previous installment. Welcome to the rollercoaster ride!_


	2. The Seven and the Nine

_**Authors' Note/Disclaimer:**_ _Just a warning to my readers, this chapter deals with several touchy topics such as homosexuality, religion, and sexism. If you feel like you will be offended, I apologize in advance, but such was the mindset of the characters as portrayed in the TV show, Game of Thrones, as well as the original authors' intentions of GRRM and Bethesda. Now that that warning is out of the way, I hope you truly enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

 **Turdas, the 6th of Sun's Dusk, 5E 10**

 **Temple of the Divines, King's Landing**

The Temple of the Divines was located in the new, aptly-named Temple District, at the top of Visenya's Hill. Many of the expatriates from Tamriel lived there, due to the proximity to the temple. The district, and the temple itself, was close to the Great Sept of Baelor, and so there was some tension when the Temple of the Divines was first built. But after some time, those fears and tensions were allayed. The temple was a pretty large building with nine small wings, each one branching off of the main foyer, and each one was dedicated to a Divine. Nakos, accompanied by several members of his royal guard, entered the Temple with Nesaerys and Alesan. The people in the foyer bowed as Nakos passed by them and he took time to speak with them for a few moments.

As they walked past the wing dedicated to Dibella, Nakos bit his tongue to keep himself from smiling as they heard moans of pleasure coming from the wing. Even Jaime sneaked a peek inside as they walked past and Alesan covered Nesaerys' ears.

"Tyrion would have a good time here," Jaime jested.

"Or Bronn," Brienne replied with the smallest of smiles.

"Make sure they don't find out about this place," Nakos said. "This Divine in particular."

"I think it's a bit late for that," Mjoll nodded towards the wing. They looked to see a familiar face sitting down, a priestess of Dibella sitting on his lap. "Well, at least he's learning something. Dibella is the god of erotic instruction, after all."

They continued and passed the wing dedicated to Mara, where they could see several weak people were lying on slabs, as priestesses stood over them slowly healing them. It was still a strange sight to Jaime and Brienne for them to see healing magic at work, despite having seen it for almost ten years. They said nothing, though, and followed Nakos as he made his way to the wing dedicated to Stendarr, god of mercy, justice, and righteousness and patron of all those who wield righteous might to protect the weak. As king of Westeros, he would need guidance to help those in need. Nakos knelt in front of the shrine to Stendarr and closing his eyes, whispered his prayer.

"Why couldn't we go to the Great Sept and pray?" Nesaerys asked in a hushed whisper so as not to bother the other patrons.

"Because those gods didn't help during the War," Alesan answered quickly. "It was the Nine that did. Even Akatosh himself came down and made our father his avatar for a moment to defeat Mehrunes Dagon."

"Do the people know that?" Jaime asked.

"Some think it was Nakos himself," Mjoll replied, "while others think it was the Father who helped him. Of course, we from Tamriel think it was Akatosh, and those that were with him, like me, know the truth. I saw it myself. A gold dragon, like the legends of old. The Divines helped while the Seven did nothing."

"Careful now," Jaime smirked. "If someone else heard you, you could be arrested for heresy."

"Let them try," Mjoll said with a smirk, and tapping the hilt of her dragonbone longsword.

Jaime chuckled. "A woman after my own heart."

"Besides, having differing beliefs was never against the law," Alesan interjected. "Matters of faith is not a reason to punish someone. The only exceptions are things like rituals that demand mortal suffering or sacrifice, like some kinds of Daedra worship."

"Or the Lord of Light," Brienne added. "I heard that Stannis Baratheon burned a few people at the stake because they followed the Faith of the Seven and not his religion. Anyway, from what I've seen since Nakos arrived here, I think your gods have done more for us than either religions of Westeros… or any of the hundreds of religions on this side of the world."

"Should I expect you to be changing religion anytime soon, Lady Brienne?" Nakos asked opening his eyes.

"Your Grace," Brienne stammered a bit, earning a snicker from Mjoll. "I thought you were praying."

"I was," Nakos smirked, "but that doesn't mean I wasn't listening, either."

Brienne cleared her throat. "I… honestly don't know. The Seven have been my faith, the faith of my father, and his father before him. But I have not seen the Seven do anything. Your Divines on the other hand…" She didn't need to finish his thought as they all knew where she was going. "I would like to know that when I pray, the gods are listening, but praying to another man's gods? I don't even know if they'd listen."

"There's no harm in trying," said Nakos.

"Who is to say that they are not one and the same anyway?" Alesan said suddenly. "I sometimes think that it's people who create the differences in what we believe, not the gods themselves."

The young Redguard's words made them silent for a moment and they all exchanged glances of admiration. "We should head back," Nakos said and the group began to make their way back. As they passed by Mara's shrine, Nesaerys looked up at it. It was of a woman, her head looking up, eyes closed, and arms outstretched. She seemed to be wearing a robe and an amulet around her neck. Nakos watched his daughter's violet eyes glow in admiration.

"This is Mara?" Nesaerys asked.

"It is," Nakos placed his hands on both of her shoulders. "The goddess of love." He chuckled when he saw her blush. "Someone on your mind, Nesy?"

"What? No!" She turned a darker shade of red.

"It's fine, Nesaerys," Nakos patted her shoulders and knelt so he was eye level with her. "I'm not mad at you. Who were you thinking about?" He knew the answer already, but wanted to hear her say it.

"Eddard Stark," Nesaerys said finally.

"Awww, my sister is in love," Alesan teased.

"And so are you, Alesan," Nakos said with a smirk. "Don't think I haven't noticed you looking at Shireen Baratheon. She's looked at you too… and I hear you two have stolen off into the godswood on more than one occasion."

Alesan tried to speak, but all that came out was mumbles.

The Royal Guards laughed aloud. "Nothing escapes your father, does it?" Jaime chuckled. "I just hope you didn't... defile that place. Some of us _do_ need to pray there."

Alesan stammered even more as sweat began to pour from his forehead and he hid his face in embarrassment. Nakos shook his head. "You've embarrassed the poor boy," he quipped with a smile.

"He should learn to be more discreet," Jaime said with a shrug and another chuckle.

The large wooden doors to the chapel creaked open, and another member of the Royal Guard, Farkas, approached, followed by a monk of sorts, dressed in rough-spun robes. "Your Grace, you have a visitor from the sect of the Seven called the Sparrows."

Nakos took note of the young man. His hair was blond, but it was cut short and close to his head. His whole demeanor seemed very calm. There was no nervousness in his body at all, and that was somewhat puzzling to Nakos, seeing that many people who came before royalty, whether it was Nakos, Joffrey, or Dany, showed some kind of fear.

"Well, well," Jaime looked the man up and down. "Lancel Lannister."

" _Brother_ Lancel," the young man corrected. "We leave our family names behind."

"Quite a family to abandon," Nakos replied. "I assume you're related to Jaime."

"Cousin," Lancel replied flatly and simply, with the slightest of a nod.

"What can I do for you, _Brother_ Lancel?"

"I bring a message from the High Sparrow," the younger Lannister answered. "He wishes to meet with you."

Nakos raised an eyebrow slightly. "Regarding?"

Lancel only shrugged. "That would be between him and you."

"In other words, you don't know," Mjoll quipped.

Lancel only glanced at Mjoll, but did not speak to her. "Do you accept the invitation, Your Grace?"

Nakos offered a small smile. "Tell the High Sparrow I accept his invitation and will meet with him tomorrow."

"Should I set up a meeting point?" Lancel asked, but Nakos shook his head. "Where will he find you?"

"No need. _I'll_ find _him_."

* * *

 **Later that day...**

Brynjolf's heart skipped a beat when he read the report from across the Narrow Sea. He read the message from his spy at least five times to make sure what he was reading was actually there. It did not seem real. When he read the message one last time, he put the parchment down on his desk and looked at a little girl who was in the room with him. "Find the king and tell him to meet me." She ran off to find Nakos.

Varys, who was sitting across from Brynjolf, picked up the parchment and read it. He took in a sharp breath, but said nothing at the moment. He looked up at Brynjolf. "This does not bode well," he said finally.

"You think?" Brynjolf grumbled. "If word of this gets out, then Nakos is in real trouble, if not direct danger."

"Would the Dark Brotherhood actually do something like this without Nakos' say?" Varys asked. "Perhaps they were hired to kill the Sealord by someone else."

"Unlikely," Brynjolf replied. He and Delvin knew the Dark Brotherhood well enough to know how they operated. "To hire the Dark Brotherhood requires the ritual of the Black Sacrament. The Night Mother then relays the information to the Listener, which is Nakos, and he then sends a speaker to obtain the contract from the one who performed the ritual. All the Dark Brotherhood contracts are done this way, so Nakos would have known if this were the case."

"And I assume not many people here in Westeros know how to perform this ritual," Varys sighed. "So either you have a rogue assassin… or someone is framing the Dark Brotherhood."

"Either way, Nakos would have to deal with this and soon…" Brynjolf paused, biting his lower lip in amusement. "And you're standing in the shadows listening, aren't you?"

A chuckle came from a dark corner. "Maybe."

"Dammit, I hate it when you do that," Brynjolf grumbled, though he was smiling.

Nakos chuckled as he stepped from the shadows. "Never gets old, does it?" His face then became serious. "I can see why you wouldn't want the Royal Council knowing this."

"The fact that you run both a powerful guild of assassins and thieves is not something that should be tied to you in a public light," Varys said. "Whoever is responsible for this may either know you are linked to them, or they are using their association to Tamriel, and thus you, to discredit you."

"That's a very short list," Nakos replied. "Everyone I know who knows about this association is either dead or on my side, and the ones on my side I trust with my life. They have no reason to discredit me."

Brynjolf then stroked his beard. "I would suggest re-examining some of them, then. It wouldn't be the first time either the Thieves Guild or the Dark Brotherhood have had a mole infiltrate the ranks."

Nakos remembered Mercer Frey from the Thieves Guild and Astrid from the Dark Brotherhood. "Varys, I'm sure you can look into this. Find out if there is a mole in either or both of my organizations… or amongst your little birds."

"Of course, Your Grace," Varys said, with a bow of his head.

"Meanwhile," Brynjolf continued, "we should also look at external factors. Did Sealord Maeros receive any unusual guests?"

"Not that we know of," answered Varys, "But I would suggest sending some of our own to investigate. They may be able to find something."

"Not to mention all these random revolts and fanatical leaders rising up in Essos," Nakos thought aloud. "These events could be connected."

"Agreed," said Brynjolf. "Do you want me to go, Your Grace?"

Nakos shook his head. "I need you here, my friend, on the Royal Council. Besides, the Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild will have more than enough volunteers," he stood to his feet. "I will ask them for their assistance." He began to leave, but Varys' question stopped him.

"Why not bring them here? You don't trust me, Your Grace?"

"I do, Varys," Nakos answered, "but many of them may not. I think they'd prefer anonymity and would not want their identities known. Anonymity is the entire point of being a thief or assassin. I'm sure _you_ would not let anyone know who your 'little birds' are, no matter you who trust."

Varys looked at Brynjolf and nodded. "True."

"Keep me informed," Nakos said as he walked out the door and made his way towards the Black Cells. They were aptly named because they were always kept in pitch darkness. One needed a lit torch or lantern in order to navigate through the darkness, or if you were from Tamriel, a Magelight or Candlelight spell. Nakos decided to use a Candlelight spell, which followed him as he walked through the darkness.

When he was sure he was alone, he gave a sharp whistle and nine people stepped out. A few of them wore the garb of the Thieves Guild while others wore the Dark Brotherhood armor. The light from the Candlelight spell barely reached them, so Nakos cast a Magelight onto the ceiling. He smiled when he saw a few familiar faces. "Karliah. Babette."

The Dunmer started to bow, but Nakos stopped her. "No need for that. When I'm here, I'm simply Nakos, Guildmaster and Listener."

"Still," Karliah said. "You're still our King. You deserve to be treated like one."

"Come, come, Karliah," Babette chuckled, her fangs gleaming. "If Nakos doesn't want to be bowed to, it's best not to push it."

Nakos took note of the rest of the people present, and then noticed that one person was absent. He heard a dagger fall from its sheath, and smirked. Quick as a fox, he ducked as the dagger sliced through the air where his head had once been. Drawing the Blade of Woe from the sheath on his ankle, he countered a jab of his own at the attacker's abdomen, but it was blocked. The attacker kicked at Nakos' head, but again Nakos dodged it. He went for a slice, but that too was blocked. His attacker this time went for a knee to his face, but Nakos rolled backwards to his feet.

"Listener," said his attacker, twirling the dagger.

Nakos chuckled. "Arya."

The playful spar continued for a moment with a flurry of attempted slashes, jabs, attacks, and counter-attacks. To the rest, no one seemed to gain the upper hand. But Nakos could have easily ended the fight if he wanted to. He was having some fun with her. After a moment, they circled each other. Nakos remained patient as Arya stepped forward with a backhanded slash. Nakos stopped the attack by blocking her forearm with his own. Using her own momentum against her, Nakos brought her arm in a clockwise motion and stepping forward, placed her in an arm lock. He placed the Blade of Woe at her neck.

"You've improved," Nakos smirked. "But I'm still better."

"I tried," Arya said with a shrug.

"Keep practicing," Nakos said as he sheathed his dagger. "Although your skill could probably match any ordinary foe you may face, it's always good to keep improving if you can. I know I don't want to get rusty in my old age."

"Now that we're all here," Babette said, "to what do we owe the pleasure?"

Nakos' face became grim. "The Sealord of Braavos, Maeros, has been killed, and it appears whoever killed him is trying to frame the Dark Brotherhood." The silence at the news was palpable. "Whoever killed Maeros left incriminating evidence: a black handprint on a parchment." There were murmurs at that. "Whoever did this knows of our methods. I want them stopped, caught and interrogated. And I want them brought to me. We need to find out who they are and what they really know." Nakos then turned to Arya. "You, Arya, will take a team to Braavos, link up with the Faceless Men, and get to the bottom of this."

The young Stark girl's eyes went wide. "Me?"

Nakos nodded. "You."

Arya was taken aback at first, but quickly composed herself. "Of course, Listener. Who should I take with me?"

"That, I leave to you." Nakos smiled slightly. "You are old enough, and experienced enough now for this, Arya."

Arya looked her fellow members over. "Karliah?"

The Nightingale Dunmer shook her head. "I am required to run the day to day operations of the Thieves Guild. But I have a few candidates for you to pick from for this mission." She indicated a few members. She pointed a pair of Nords. "Kirstina and Morgen. Go with Arya."

"But they're thieves," Arya huffed. "I'll need assassins with me as well."

Karliah smirked, "Didn't bother you when I was training you, Arya."

"True, but I started with the Dark Brotherhood, and I'd feel comfortable with a knife in my hand."

This time, it was Babette who smirked. "Though I'd love to go with you, I don't think vampires would be welcome, and with the sun shining, I wouldn't survive long. But I _do_ know some fellow brothers and sisters who would love to accompany you." She looked to three other assassins. "Cassius. Jak. Camaron."

Two Imperials and a Redguard walked forward. They were all around Arya's age, in their early twenties. "Finally," the Redguard boomed. "I thought I would always be stuck on this side of the Narrow Sea."

"Well, here's your chance, Camaron," Nakos replied. "Just don't do anything reckless."

"I'll keep an eye on him, Listener." Arya quipped as she looked over the five other assassins. "So, I assume I'm in charge of all of you, then."

Nakos nodded. "You are the ranking member in both guilds, Arya. Make sure you take good care of your team, and you may all come home alive."

Arya sighed. "I suppose Lucien will be taking us."

Nakos shook his head. "Braavos is only about a week's journey by ship. Talk to Lord Theon. He should have a ship for you. But you should leave as soon as possible. The faster we get to the bottom of this, the better." Nakos handed her a sealed letter, containing his official seal and orders for the Faceless Men.

Arya nodded as she took the letter before she and her team disappeared into the darkness of the Black Cells.

Both Karliah and Babette turned to Nakos. "Are you sure it is wise to put so much faith in her, Listener?" Babette said. "She is still very new and headstrong."

"Agreed, Karliah added. "She has her own preset determination and ways of doing things, Nakos."

Nakos shook his head. "I see great potential with Arya. She may be one who can simultaneously reach the ranks of Speaker and Master Thief before long. But, in order for her to gain command level experience, she needs to be tested in field command missions like this. She and the team she has chosen are all young, but gifted. I would say we need to give the little birds a chance to grow their wings and learn to fly like eagles." He then turned to the two most senior members of both guilds. "That doesn't mean we are not going to back them up, if need be. But for now, I need teams assembled for other areas. There are other events that concern me in Essos."

* * *

 **Fredas, the 7th of Sun's Dusk, 5E 10**

 **Red Keep, King's Landing**

Nesaerys, Daenerys, and Rhaelor were in the main courtyard of the Red Keep as nobles walked past and several of the Royal Guard waited nearby. Nesaerys was sparring with Athis, a Dunmer, former member of the Companions, and member of the City Watch. Rhaelor and Daenerys, meanwhile, sat at a nearby table. Rhaelor was reading a book, looking up every once in a while to watch his sister. Nesaerys wanted to spar with her brother, but Rhaelor wanted otherwise. "Sorry, Nesy," he had said, "but I'm not want to spar today."

Truth be told, he was not that interesting in learning to fight at all. Though he did train with Athis, he spent most of his time in the library with Tyrion Lannister and Giraud Gemane, the former Dean of History at the Bard's College in Solitude. Giraud was now the head librarian in the Red Keep. Unlike Nesaerys, who liked to fight with swords and weapons, Rhaelor preferred to read and study. Nesaerys teased him that he was more like Tyrion, but he took it as a compliment. "A mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone, little lord," Tyrion had told Rhaelor once while they read in the library and Rhaelor seemed to take that to heart.

Rhaelor looked up from his book, _The Real Barenziah,_ and watched for a moment as Nesaerys circled Athis. Nesaerys was armed with an ebony sword and was on the offensive, keeping up the pressure. But Athis easily parried each strike with his sword. Nesaerys yelled out and ran forward with a hard overhead swing. Athis held up his blade horizontally to block the downward swing. Taking a step to Nesaerys' outside, he flicked his wrist around, bringing the blade around, and hit her back with the flat of his blade.

"You're telegraphing your moves too much, Lady Nesaerys," Athis rebuked. "I know what you're going to do before you do it."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Nesaerys asked in frustration.

"Be more subtle, and don't try too hard. Focus more on your opponent and a little more on the defensive rather than going on the offensive."

"How?"

"It is important to pay attention to the motions in your opponent's actions," Athis explained, "Those motions can be anything, even something as small as a small rotation of the sword hand before a swing. They can include obvious movements, such as leaning into each step before swinging, or things less obvious, such as a slight weight shift that indicates a step will be taken with the back foot. Any of these can provide the evidence to tell you what your opponent's next move will be, and this can help you to start your defense or counter-attack before your opponent actually starts to perform the attack itself."

Nesaerys sighed. "Fine." She was obviously frustrated.

"Would you like to go again?" Athis asked.

"Do I have a choice?" Nesaerys asked with a shrug.

"You do," Athis said with a small smile. "If you're angry or frustrated, you won't learn much." Nesaerys thought for a moment, and nodded. The two of them sparred again, but Athis won again .

"I don't know why you're sparring now, Nesy," Rhaelor said, going back to his book. "We have visitors and you don't want to be all sweaty and smelly if they walk past."

Nesaerys looked at her brother in surprise. "Visitors?"

Daenerys chuckled. "You should start paying more attention, Nesaerys. The Starks are here in King's Landing, including Lord Robb's son, Eddard."

"Ned?" Nesaerys replied in a surprised whisper, running over to her mother and brother. "I thought he went home after my Nameday festivals were all done!"

Dany shook her head. "He and his family remained behind for the past few days." Of course, she didn't say the reason for why they had stayed behind, and her lips curled into a smirk when she saw Nesaerys blush. "I've seen the way you and Lord Eddard have looked at each other, and don't think your Father hasn't noticed it, either."

"You like Eddard?" Rhaelor asked and laughed.

Nesaerys ignored him. "You think Father is planning a marriage between our houses?"

"He would not force you to marry someone you're not in love with," Dany answered, "unlike the rest of the people here in Westeros, who only marry for political reasons. Not to mention you're both only ten years old. If you both still like each other in a few years, maybe you will marry."

"Maybe," Nesaerys replied softly.

"You don't think you would?"

"You said it yourself. I'm only ten years old. Who knows how I would feel five or ten years from now…" Nesaerys' voice trailed off.

Dany noticed Nesaerys was not looking at her, but past her. Dany followed her gaze to see Eddard Stark walking towards them, flanked by guards. Rhaelor and Nesaerys both quickly stood to their feet and bowed.

"Lord Eddard," Nesaerys said, her voice a whisper.

"Lady Nesaerys," Eddard said with a smile. "Lord Rhaelor." He bowed to Dany. "Your Grace."

"Lord Eddard," Dany said, "What brings you here?"

"I actually wanted to speak with Lady Nesaerys, if that's alright."

Dany stole a glance and a smirk at Nesaerys. "Of course. Come, Rhaelor." She winked at Nesaerys and walked off, three Royal Guards walking beside her.

Neither child said anything for a moment, but stared at each other. Finally, they laughed. "It's a… surprise to see you, Lord Eddard," Nesaerys said.

"That's what I was hoping for," Eddard said. "Would you walk with me, my lady?"

Nesaerys nodded fervently. "Of course, my lord." They began make their way towards the gardens, escorted by both of their guards.

"Your father is a good man, Lady Nesaerys," Eddard began. "Without his help, I wouldn't be here. He saved my parents' life, as well as the life of my grandmother."

"So I have heard," Nesaerys replied, "Though from what I've heard, it was a Dark Brotherhood assassin that murdered the Freys."

"And for that I am grateful," Eddard replied, eliciting a wide-eyed glance from Nesaerys.

"From what Mjoll tells me, your father wasn't very happy with that."

"I am not my father, Lady Nesaerys. My father has his honor, true. But his honor nearly got him killed. Who am I to argue how my life was saved? I thank the old gods and the new every day that I am here, no matter the method."

 _You should thank Sithis,_ Nesaerys thought to herself before talking aloud again. "I agree. I know there are times when sticking to your honor is _not_ the best choice, especially here in Westeros. If my father had done so, I doubt many of his allies, or even him, would be alive right now."

"You have a point," Eddard said and they walked for a moment. They soon arrived at the gardens, which had a good amount of people in it, both humans and non-humans. "Do you have any plans or dreams to visit your father's homeland?" Eddard asked as he looked with wonder at the elves and Argonians.

Nesaerys chuckled. "Hammerfell or Skyrim?"

Eddard glanced at her. "Hammerfell?"

"The homeland of the Redguards," she explained. "There are nine provinces of Tamriel, and each race hails from each province. My father is a Redguard and so his homeland is Hammerfell."

"What are the other provinces?" Eddard asked.

"Cyrodiil is the center and capital of the Empire, and home of the Imperial race. Black Marsh is home to the Argonians. Elsweyr is composed of the deserts and jungles to the south of Cyrodiil and is home to the Khajiit." At Eddard's confused look, Nesaerys chuckled and pointed to one. "The cat people. Hammerfell is home to the Redguards. High Rock is home to the Bretons. Morrowind is home to the Dunmer, the dark elves. Skyrim is home to the Nords. Summerset Isle actually refers to several islands to the southwest of Cyrodiil across the Abecean Sea and is home to the Altmer, the high elves. Valenwood is home to the Bosmer, or the wood elves."

"So many races," Eddard mused, somewhat to himself, but loud enough to be heard.

"Imagine being in Tamriel. There are even more elves, orcs, Argonians, and Khajiit there than there are here."

"Your country worships nine gods, right?" the young Stark boy asked.

Nesaerys nodded. "And you worship seven."

"Do you think that would ever be a problem for our countries, now that there is a temple of your faith here?"

"I would hope not. My father has worked too hard for there to be tension between our countries now." They soon arrived at one of the larger water fountains and took a seat on the nearby stone bench, looking out over Blackwater Bay.

"Is this your first time in King's Landing?" Nesaerys asked finally.

"No," Eddard answered. "I've been here before, or so my dad says. I don't remember being here myself. It is a nice city, though."

"I've heard it was worse when my father first came here almost thirteen years ago."

"I've heard the same," Eddard replied. "What about you? Have _you_ ever left King's Landing?"

Nesaerys shook her head. "Unfortunately, no."

Eddard smiled. "Would you like to?"

Nesaerys' eyes widened in surprise. "Are you suggesting…"

"I am. If your father would allow it, my father and I would like to take you to visit Winterfell."

Nesaerys was speechless at first. "For how long?"

"Only a few days. Or perhaps a few weeks."

"A few _weeks_?"

"You may find you like it there."

Nesaerys started to blush again. "I'd… like to. Let me ask my father first."

"Of course," Eddard bowed. "I would not want you to make a decision without your parents' say. Just let me know what they say." He took Nesaerys' hand and kissed it. "It would be nice to have you there, my lady." With a bow, Eddard walked away.

Nesaerys watched him leave, her violet eyes glowing. But then she heard familiar giggling and turned to see Sofie and Lyla Westerling, her handmaiden.

"How long were you two listening?" Nesaerys huffed.

"Long enough," Sofie said between laughs and sat by her sister. "Lord Eddard wants you to go to Winterfell?"

Nesaerys looked back towards the direction where Eddard had left. She could just see him turning the corner. "He does, and I would love to go there. I hear the North is like Skyrim. I may not ever see Skyrim, so this is as close as I will get."

Sofie embraced her sister. "I'm sure you would enjoy it, Nesy."

Nesaerys' eyes gleamed mischievously. "I'm sure _you_ have your eye on someone."

"Pssh," Sofie only waved her hand in dismissal, "If I did, I wouldn't tell you."

"But I may," Lyla teased, a playful smirk on her lips.

Sofie glared daggers at her handmaiden. "Don't you dare."

"Who is it?" Nesaerys asked gleefully.

"It's…" Lyla started before Sofie slapped a hand over her handmaiden's mouth.

"No, you don't!" Sofie growled out.

"Is it Bran or Rickon?" Nesaerys asked, and the look her sister gave her told her _no_. "Fine," Nesaerys shrugged and stood. "I'll ask Brynjolf or Varys. I'm sure _they_ know." With that, she ran off giggling.

"No!" Sofie called out as she chased Nesaerys around the garden for a few moments before finally catching her and playfully restraining her. "You'll never find out!"

"I want to know!" Nesaerys retorted, trying to wrestle free from her older sister's grasp.

"You will, but not today," Sofie replied, finally releasing Nesaerys.

"Does Father even know?"

"No," Lyla replied before Sofie could stop her. "Neither your father or mother know. Perhaps _they_ deserve to know." Now it was her eyes that gleamed with mischief.

"Don't make me chase _you_ ," Sofie hissed.

Lyla put on a look of fake indignation. "You wouldn't order me not to tell the King and Queen themselves, would you Sofie?"

Sofie glared at her. "Seeing as I am their daughter, and I am a princess, I would."

Lyla would not relent, still smirking. "But they _deserve_ to know. They are the King and Queen, after all. Besides, I had orders from them: if anything was ever wrong or a danger to you, I have to tell them. I think this boy is a 'danger' to you, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, at least it's a boy," Nesaerys joked, earning a glare from her sister.

Sofie glared at both girls, before groaning in frustration. "I hate you both."

Nesaerys chuckled. "I hate you, too."

Sofie stood and groaned again when she saw who was walking towards them. "Lady Cersei." She gave a shallow bow, having heard plenty of stories of what she had done.

If Cersei Lannister had any opinion to Sofie's dissenting action, she did not react to it. She only bowed her head to each young woman. "Lady Sofie. Lady Nesaerys. Lady Lyla."

"What brings you here, my lady?" Sofie asked, a hint of indignation in her voice.

Cersei looked about them into the gardens. "Reliving old times," came Cersei's somber response. "I once walked these very gardens daily when I was Queen Regent. I see it hasn't changed much, aside from the strange fellows."

"The city _has_ changed," Sofie replied. "And for the better."

"I know. Many seem to believe so. But I've heard there are some dissenters I don't think you need to worry about that, though. Not with your _all-powerful_ father as King." Cersei smiled at that, and the young women could tell that the last line was meant to be sarcastic.

"My father has done more than _either_ of your sons had done when they were king," Nesaerys huffed in annoyance, knowing that Cersei was trying to play them.

"I admit that he has," Cersei said softly, ignoring the jibe the young girl sent her way. "But we should not dwell on the past, my ladies. What was done was done. We have a bright future to look forward to."

"A bright future for who, exactly?" Sofie asked warily. "Westeros… or you?"

Cersei chuckled. "Why so suspicious of me, Lady Sofie?"

"I've heard stories of what you did."

"And you believe them?"

"When they come from my father, I do."

Cersei said nothing for a moment. "I can assure you, my banishment has changed my perspective. The Crone came to me with her lamp held high and shown me my sins. I prayed to the Father for him to absolve me of my sins, and I hope your father and you can do the same to me."

Nesaerys and Sofie exchanged a quick glance. "Perhaps," Sofie said. "I am not ready to trust you just yet."

Cersei did not reply to her comment. "As I said, we have a bright future to look forward to. Many changes have come to Westeros since your father became king. He rebuilt the Royal Council to its former glory, created the Royal Guard, and the City Watch. Your uncle Avik became Lord of the Crownlands and married Lady Brienne of Tarth. They have a daughter, Jasmyne. My brother Tyrion married Shae, despite her not being of royal birth, and _they_ have a daughter, Ilyana. Jaime is now a part of your Royal Guard. Who knows what other changes will come."

"And those changes will benefit the _realm_ ," Nesaerys said, "Not you."

"I know," Cersei replied. "A lot of the changes he has already made have been for the benefit of the realm and its people, even at his own expense."

"Indeed," Sofie said, "and he would continue to do so."

Cersei took a few steps forward towards them. "But we all hope he doesn't… overextend his generosity and reforms. Some more unscrupulous people may… try to take advantage of our good king." She bowed her head and with a "my ladies," walked off.

The young girls watched her go. "I don't like her," Nesaerys whispered to her sister.

* * *

 **Meanwhile...**

"Are you sure this is wise, Nakos?" Mjoll asked as she and several other Royal Guards escorted Nakos through the streets of King's Landing. "You don't know who this High Sparrow fellow is."

"Varys has told me enough," Nakos replied. "And I think I can protect myself," he added with a smile.

"No one is doubting that, Nakos," Lydia replied, "But you've always warned us to be careful. And if this man asked to meet with you..."

"This is to be a friendly meeting," interrupted Nakos. "We don't want to provoke a fight if it can be avoided. People are still recovering from the wars."

Farkas and Vilkas looked between the two of them and shrugged, predatory grins on each of their faces. "If it comes to that, we'll be ready. Ten years is long enough without some serious action."

Nakos glanced at them with a smirk. "There's a reason we have brothels and Dibella priestesses, you know."

Farkas merely blinked, not understanding fully what Nakos implied, but his brother Vilkas merely frowned. "Not the action we meant, Harbinger. Besides, I've been to both places already."

The five of them shared a laugh as they continued towards Flea Bottom. They soon came across a large group of peasants who seemed to be waiting in line down a flight of steps. Lancel Lannister was at the bottom of the steps and was surprised to see Nakos approaching.

"I told you I'd find him," Nakos said.

Lancel stammered at first, but quickly composed himself. "He's up there," he said pointing up the stairs.

Nakos went up, but did not rush. He took his time, talking with the peasants who reached out to him. Despite the changes he made, Flea Bottom was still the poorest district of King's Landing. Nakos wanted to help the people, but even with his own considerable wealth and resources added to the royal treasury, his ability to aid the poor was only finite.

As he reached the top of the steps, he saw an older gentleman passing out food to the peasants. He was dressed like Lancel was, in a roughspun tunic, and was barefoot. "You must be the High Sparrow," Nakos greeted him.

"And you must be the new king of Westeros," the High Sparrow said as he spooned soup into a bowl and passed it to a peasant. "I suppose I need not ask how you found me."

"I have my ways." Nakos walked around to the other side of the table. "Do you need help?"

The High Sparrow did not answer right away, taken back by the request to help. "Of course," he said finally. "It's not common for the king to help the commonfolk."

"I'm not like most kings," Nakos replied as he passed a bowl of soup to a young peasant boy. "I actually care about the people. I do try to help as much as I can."

"And for that, I am grateful. You have done much for this country. However, some of those changes I do _not_ agree with."

"Such as?"

"The introduction of a new and foreign religion, for one. The casual breaking of this land's sacred laws and traditions for another," the High Sparrow began. "You treat the sacred laws of the Seven we have followed for nearly ten thousand years with scorn, and supplant it with laws better suited to your own way of life."

"High Sparrow, I have nothing against the laws of the Seven. But as you may have noticed, there are thousands of immigrants from Tamriel now living in Westeros, and they still adhere to the Nine Divines. Even I adhere to the faith of the Nine Divines. This is the reason I had the Temple of the Divines built: to make sure my people have a place to worship. The people of Westeros still have freedom to worship the Seven."

The High Sparrow shook his head. "And yet you allow women to serve in a military capacity, and to fight on the front lines." He indicated Mjoll and Lydia with his eyes. "You allow unnatural sexual relations between men and women of the same gender. Both of these acts are against our faith in a profound way. Our way has always been to expose and punish those who commit sins and atrocities of this nature."

"Are we to say that women are less than men?" Nakos asked, narrowing his eyes a bit. "Because as much as the people of Westeros might wish it, the world isn't so black and white. In Skyrim, we don't hold to the old ideas that women are good for one thing and men are good for another. Where that idea came from, I do not know, but what I do know is that those in Westeros is far behind in their thinking."

"Not at all. That's not the reason for that rule, Your Grace," The High Sparrow raised his right hand in a conciliatory gesture. "And I am well aware that the living conditions in Tamriel may well foster the necessity of women having to protect themselves much more than here in Westeros, or even Essos. But that does not change the fact that men and women are different, and need different requirements. To say otherwise is folly, and you already know that. If a pregnant woman pregnant goes into battle, tell me what happens if that child dies before they are born? The mother risks death not only of herself, but her baby as well. Does Stendarr's mercy not extend then to a child who has not even seen the light of day? And that is only one singular example."

"We are not so rash as to send a woman with child into battle, High Sparrow. But to answer your question, yes. Stendarr does extend his mercy to a child who has not yet been born. Yet that does not explain why women should not be able to protect themselves or the ones they love." The reprimand was delivered in a firm tone. "Men are not the only ones destined to be lords and warriors and princes. Women can be warriors as well as merchants, blacksmiths, singers, scholars, and more. Likewise, men in Skyrim are not confined to certain roles that they would be confined to here in Westeros, and there have been several men who have not been as honorable as they should have been. I can name more than a few men who were called 'knights' that didn't deserve the title in the slightest. Ser Gregor Clegane comes to mind, as does Janos Slynt and most of the former Kingsguard and the Gold Cloaks. They murdered innocent babies and children… and gods know what else."

"Such were the sins of the previous monarchy, regretfully," The High Sparrow nodded. "Ser Barristan Selmy was perhaps the last great knight of the King's Guard, before Joffrey's influence and those of his family took root. Nevertheless, it has long been held that most women are unsuited for the life of combat. For many it is seen as unbecoming-"

"That is not a decision for you or anyone else to make," Nakos interrupted. "It is literally up to the individual who lives the life to chose how they live. More than half of Tamriel's forces were composed of women. If it weren't for them, we may not be here today, and I may not have made it to the Lands of Always Winter."

The High Sparrow was silent for a moment as he passed a soup bowl. "Be that as it may, that still does not excuse the unnatural relations that you tolerate. I have seen some of those couples amongst your people from Tamriel. And that includes having Ser Loras serving in your Royal Guard."

"That's another matter of religious belief versus rule of law," Nakos answered evenly. "As far as the crown is concerned, who the heart desires is the preference of the individual. Your beliefs are no excuse to persecute someone for their choice of partner."

"And what exactly do _your_ beliefs have to say about such matters?" The High Sparrow asked.

"The Divines believe that we mortals must find our own way," Nakos answered. "They do reward good deeds, of course, but we are never hand-held or coddled. The only time the Divines ever intervene in the affairs of our world is when there is no other choice. Such was the case when Akatosh intervened in the war against Mehrunes Dagon."

"And you say you became his… avatar," the High Sparrow scoffed, unbelieving. "That he used you as his vessel to kill Dagon."

"I did, and he did. There are several people you can ask who were witness to it. The Divines helped us win the War, whereas I saw no aid from the Seven, or any other pantheon. One would think that when the end of this world was so close, the gods would have done something... anything, to guide those who needed it most."

The High Sparrow glared at Nakos. "Be careful how you speak about the Seven, Your Grace. You may not believe in our faith, but they still deserve your respect, especially from a king."

"And my gods deserve _your_ respect," Nakos matched his glare with one of his own. "I respect what your faith is trying to do: give the people something to believe in. It is my goal as well. But who is to say that our religions are not one and the same anyway? Perhaps it's our people who create the differences in what we believe, not the gods themselves." At this, Nakos smiled. "At least that is what my son said. The mind of a child, untainted by the prejudices of this world. It's an amazing thing."

The High Sparrow stopped what he was doing and looked at Nakos curiously. "You worship nine gods, correct?"

"Yes," Nakos answered, "And you worship seven."

The old man shook his head. "We worship one god, but he has seven faces. The Father, the Mother, the Maiden, the Crone, the Warrior, the Smith, and the Stranger. Each aspect represents one part of life. First there's The Father. He represents divine justice, and judges the souls of the dead."

"We have Stendarr, the god of justice as well as Akatosh. Akatosh is the chief god, as the Father is the chief god of your faith."

"The Mother represents, mercy, peace, fertility, and childbirth."

Nakos smiled, "Stendarr again. He is also the god of mercy. Mara is the Mother-Goddess, goddess of fertility."

"The Maiden represents purity, love and beauty."

"Mara and Dibella. Both are gods of love, although Dibella is more… open to the kinds of worship and offerings she receives, if you know what I mean."

The High Sparrow did not smile, but he knew the general idea of what Nakos was saying before he continued. "The Crone represents wisdom and foresight."

"Julianos," Nakos said, "the god of wisdom and logic."

"The Warrior represents strength and courage in battle."

"Talos, the god of war. The man that became a god."

"A man became a god?" the High Sparrow was surprised to hear of such a thing.

"Most believe he did, yes. There is some debate, but the vast majority of Tamriel's people believe he was rewarded by the Eight Divines for his valiant deeds in life. Thus, eight became nine."

The High Sparrow shook his head in disbelief and continued, "The Smith represent creation and craftsmanship."

Nakos thought for a moment, "Zenithar is the closest I can think of. The god of work and commerce."

"And finally, the Stranger. He represents death and the unknown."

"Arkay. He is the god of death, burials, as well as the god of life." Nakos did not mention Sithis for obvious reasons.

The High Sparrow looked at Nakos and the corner of his lips pulled up ever so slightly. "Perhaps you are right, Your Grace. Perhaps our religions are _not_ so different after all."

* * *

 **Turdas, the 13th of Sun's Dusk, 5E 10**

 **Braavos**

Arya Stark stood on the stern of the ship as it approached the Free City of Braavos. It was the second time she had been to the city. The first was when she came with the ghost of Lucien to recruit the Faceless Men to help Nakos' cause against Dagon. Even though that was ten years ago, it only seemed like yesterday. As the ship sailed underneath the immense statue, the Titan of Braavos, she took time to appreciate the sights. She remembered seeing the city before, but she didn't have time to appreciate them before.

"You've been here before?" Kirstina asked and chuckled at Arya's surprised look. "You have that look on your face."

"It's been a long time since I have," Arya replied as she looked back out towards the city.

"But you didn't have time to truly enjoy what the city had to offer."

Arya shook her head. "And I won't have time now, either."

Kirsten joined her at the bow of the ship. "The work of an assassin never ends."

"Or a thief."

Kirsten chuckled. "True. Brynjolf keeps us busy in King's Landing. And by busy, I mean stealing from those that have caused Nakos trouble over the years."

"Some things never change," Arya said.

The rest of the assassins and thieves joined them at the stern. "Some city," Cassius said as they sailed closer.

"So what's the plan, Arya?" Camaron asked.

"You're asking me?"

"You're the leader," Morgen reminded her.

Arya thought for a moment. It was still a surprise to her that Nakos had placed her in charge of a small team of spies and assassins and tasked them with investigating the death of the Sealord. She just hoped that she would not disappoint him. "We'll need to establish a base." A smirk came across her lips. "And I know just where we should go first." She pointed to a tall building in the distance. "The House of Black and White."

"The home of the Faceless Men?" Morgen asked, eyes wide. "Why in Oblivion would we go _there_?"

"They are our brothers. They are a part of the Dark Brotherhood, and believe me, when you have nowhere else in this city, it's always good to find sanctuary. Besides, I have orders for them from the Listener."

"Is it true what they can do?" Morgen asked. "That they can change their face?"

Arya nodded. "I've seen it myself. Trust me, it's a useful skill."

Morgen chuckled nervously. "I'll take your word for it."

Jax chuckled. "You sound scared, Morgen."

Morgen glared at the Imperial assassin. "How would you feel if the person in front of you suddenly had a new face?"

Jax shrugged. "There's a new face in my bed almost every night."

Kirsten groaned. "I did _not_ need to know that."

"Enough," Arya put a hand to stop the bickering, though she had a smile, herself. "Once we gain the help of the Faceless Men, we need to infiltrate the Sealord's Palace and see what we can find out."

The ship made its way to the harbor and the group took several rowboats out to the House of Black and White. Everyone looked up at the immense height of the building. "Let me do the talking first," Arya instructed and knocked on the door. The door opened slowly and a old, white-haired man peeked out. "Valar morghulis," Arya greeted the man.

"Valar dohaeris," the man replied. "Who comes here?"

"Servants of Sithis," Arya said, giving him the scroll Nakos had given her. "The Listener has sent us."

The man looked them over. "What is the music of life?"

"Silence, my brother," Arya answered with a small smile.

The man smirked. "Welcome home. Come in, my brothers and sisters." He opened the door wider and the group quickly walked in. Once they were inside, he closed the door and turned to face them. "You are the leader?" he asked, pointing to Arya.

Arya nodded. "I am Arya Stark."

At the mention of her name, the man smiled. His hand went to his face and he pulled off the face of the older man to reveal a younger, more familiar face. "Welcome back, Arya Stark."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Morgen groaned to herself, earning a few snickers from her friends, including Arya.

Arya's first instinct was to run and hug the Faceless man who had taken the face of Jaqen H'ghar, but she remained calm. "A man takes on a familiar face," she said instead.

"A man did not wish to scare a woman," Jaqen replied to Morgen before turning back to Arya. "A woman would have been more comfortable talking to a familiar face. But a woman's friends have not seen the magic of the Red God. It scares them."

"Just Morgen," Jax quipped.

Arya smirked at Jax's jab, but replied to Jaqen. "After travelling the Void with Lucien, and seeing the destruction wrought by Dagon, little surprises me anymore."

Jaqen gestured further in. "If a woman and her friends would follow a man, they could speak about what the Listener wants." They followed the Faceless Man through several hallways and into another room. "What does the Listener want with the Faceless Men?"

"Your help," Arya said. "No doubt you have heard, but the Sealord of Braavos is dead. Murdered."

"A man has heard."

"Whoever killed him has placed the blame on the Dark Brotherhood," Arya added. "And the Listener wants to find out who truly is responsible and why they blamed us."

At the mention of the Dark Brotherhood being framed, Jaqen shifted uncomfortably. "A man had thought that the Sealord was killed out of jealousy. Such is the way of Braavos. The position is not hereditary, so if a Sealord dies, a new one is chosen. And to secure such a position, blades are drawn."

"So almost everyone in the palace had motive to kill him," Kirsten mused aloud. "But why frame the Dark Brotherhood? What good would that do?"

Jaqen steepled his fingers in thought. "A man doubts that it was a plot from within the palace. The sigil of the Dark Brotherhood is not known to the men of Essos, with very rare exceptions since the War. Whoever killed Sealord Maeros had no intention of claiming the title of Sealord for themselves. Perhaps this is a plot meant to disrupt a wider alliance. For instance, the alliance of the Free Cities, or even with Westeros and the Listener himself."

"Well, have there been any unusual visitors or strangers who recently arrived?" Arya suggested. "Someone with outsider knowledge like that in Essos is going to be extremely rare."

"You think it could be one of ours?" Cassius asked. "That we have a traitor within King's Landing or the Dark Brotherhood? Or even the Thieves Guild?"

"There has only been one traitor within the Dark Brotherhood in recent memory," Jaqen said. "Babette is the only one still alive from back then, and she has proven her loyalty to the Listener. Everyone else is from a time after Astrid's betrayal. That means the Faceless Men and the Dark Brotherhood may be dealing with someone who has prior knowledge of the Brotherhood. Someone who knows of us and our ways. Perhaps someone from Tamriel."

"Who from Tamriel would have something against the Dark Brotherhood?" Arya asked.

Jaqen chuckled. "That list is very long. But a man is sure a woman and her friends can narrow that list down."

* * *

 **Fredas, the 14th of Sun's Dusk, 5E 10**

 **King's Landing**

Cersei Lannister made her way through Flea Bottom, holding a handkerchief to her nose to stop the stench. She wished she had Ser Meryn Trant with her for protection, in case something happened, but there were enough City Watch members around. They would have to do. But even if they did their duty and protected her and other innocents, she did not trust them. She walked through the steps near Rhaenys' Hill, and came across a long line of peasants. She followed the line to a small canopy, where she found an older man passing food to peasants.

"The young man said I would find the High Sparrow back here," Cersei said. "Where is he?"

"High Sparrow?" the man chuckled. "Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? Like Lord Duckling, or King Turtle. Still, it's meant to. We're often stuck with the names our enemies give to us. The notion that we are all equal in the eyes of Seven doesn't sit well with some so they belittle me." He passed a bowl of food to a young peasant woman.

"Seven blessings to you," the woman thanked him.

"Seven blessings to you, my dear," the High Sparrow said before turning his attention back to Cersei. "It's only a name, quite an easy burden to wear. Far easier than hers," he added, indicated the woman who had received food.

Cersei looked down to see he was not wearing shoes. "Why no shoes?

"Because I gave them away to someone who needed them more," he answered. "We all do that. It stops us from forgetting who we really are."

"Is that why you came to King's Landing? To remind everyone?"

"Everyone?" the High Sparrow chuckled. "I have a hard time reminding myself. Well, I tell them no one's special. They think I'm special for telling them so."

Cersei shrugged. "Perhaps they're right.

"It would be comforting to believe that, wouldn't it?" He gestured for the Lannister woman to follow him as he tended to other peasants. "The gods sent you here to tempt me? I hope not. I'd assumed you'd only come here to ask why I met with the king."

"You met with the king?"

The older man nodded. "It was an… interesting conversation. Though he is a good man and has done much for this country, I very much disagree with the changes he has made. Allowing women to serve in the military? Allowing unnatural relations in this city?" He looked Cersei over. "I wouldn't presume to know your thoughts on the matter."

Cersei suppressed a smirk. _I have my way in,_ she thought. "My thoughts on the matter align with your own. The king's choices may become corrosive, despite his attitude and intentions to make this city a better place. Having a man like that reside in the Red Keep eats away the Faith from the inside. The Faith and the Crown are the two pillars that hold up this world. If one collapses, so does the other. We must do everything necessary to protect one another, wouldn't you say?"

The High Sparrow looked at her for what seemed like an eternity. "I assume you would want to meet to discuss this in depth?"

Cersei nodded. "I do."

The High Sparrow chuckled. "Meet me in the Great Sept this evening."

A few hours later, Cersei and the High Sparrow met in one of the libraries. She sat at a desk, pouring a glass of wine. "May I offer you some wine, Your Holiness?"

"No," the High Sparrow said with a smile.

Cersei looked unsure, having expected him to say yes. After a moment, she smiled and pushed the wine away. "The old High Septon would have asked the vintage."

"I could say that our minds are temples to the Seven," the High Sparrow responded, "and should be kept pure. But the truth is, I don't like the taste."

"Hmm," was all Cersei said as she took a sip of wine.

After a moment, the older man spoke. "What do you want, Lady Cersei?"

"All over Westeros we hear about the changes a foreign king has made. The Faith of the Seven is being supplanted by a foreign religion and belief."

"This is the same conversation I had with His Grace," High Sparrow sighed. "He seems to be convinced that our beliefs are more similar than we think."

"And what do _you_ think?"

"I think there is some merit to his arguments, but the Faith of the Seven has, is, and always will be the faith of Westeros. This new faith he is trying to introduce may be fine for his people, but what if _our_ people convert to his religion? How will that affect us in the near future, especially if he rules for forty more years?"

"And his children who will inherit the throne," Cersei replied. "They already display mixed feelings about matters of faith, especially after Nakos spread those stories of what happened beyond the Wall."

High Sparrow doubted that. "Children are not easily swayed from the faith of their parents."

"But Nakos _has_ spread those stories," Cersei said, trying to dissuade him.

"It matters not if those stories are true, or if it was with the help of his gods or ours, His Grace ended the war and stopped Dagon's war as well."

Cersei simply shrugged as she took another sip of wine. "And now we are feeling the effects of the war. Heresy. Abominable relations. Who knows what other sins he commits in the Red Keep or what sins occur in that Temple of the Divines." She said nothing for a moment, and then smirked. "In the days before the Targaryens, the Faith Militant dispensed the justice of the Seven."

The High Sparrow raised an eyebrow. "Well, the Faith Militant was disarmed more than two centuries ago."

Cersei smirked. "If I explain the purpose to you, I have no doubt you will arm the believers you felt were worthy."

"If I am not mistaken," the High Sparrow replied, leaning forward. "It is only by the decree of the king that the Faith Militant can be reformed."

"Not necessarily," Cersei replied. "In the days of old, the Faith Militant stood against the crown when the Faith believed that the Targaryens were heretics and blasphemers."

The High Sparrow digested this for a moment. "An army that defends the bodies and souls of the common people."

Cersei smirked. "An army and service to the gods themselves. And to you, of course. As the chosen representative of the Seven."

"An honor I never expected. Or indeed, ever wished for."

"Which is why you were chosen," Cersei said, eliciting a smile from the High Sparrow. "You and I both know how the world works. Too often the wicked are the wealthiest, beyond the reach of justice. Even the king himself will not punish those who deserve it most."

"All sinners are equal before the gods."

Cersei paused for a moment. "What would you say if I told you we have a great sinner in our very midst? Shielded by gold and privilege and by the king himself."

The High Sparrow's smile grew wider. "May the Father judge him justly."

The moment was broken when quiet laughter came from behind a pillar near the entryway. It was just one person laughing, but then several more laughs quietly joined in. Soon, a tall, golden-skinned woman appeared at the entryway, dressed in fine dark robes and a cloak. A hood was draped over her head. Two other similar men appeared behind her.

"Silly humans," the woman spoke in a cultured, precise voice. "If you think that any rabble you could cobble together would match what Nakos has built in a decade, you had best reconsider your plan very carefully."

Cersei jumped to her feet and was about to call for guards, but the stranger put up a hand, "You have no power over the guards, Cersei Lannister. Or have you forgotten that already?"

"Who… in Seven Hells are you?" Cersei asked slowly.

"For now," the tall woman said with a smirk, "I am someone who shares your detest of Nakos and his ilk."

Cersei had the most dreaded sense of deja vu, when Mephala spoke those very same words. "I have heard that before, and it almost cost the lives of everyone in this city."

The woman tilted her head. "Yes, so I have heard. You allied yourself with the Daedric Prince Mephala. But I can assure you I am no Daedra."

The High Sparrow stood slowly. "Then who exactly are you?"

The woman removed her hood to reveal elf ears. "Let's say that if you wish to deal with Nakos, we can… provide certain assistances."

"Why should I trust you?" Cersei asked firmly.

"Consider the possible alternatives," the elf sat in the other empty chair. "Let us say you and your newly recreated 'Faith Militant' begin to stir up trouble. All Nakos has to do is wave his hand, and you all get arrested and locked away for disturbing the peace and inciting rebellion. But then, let us say your little rebel movement picks up speed and gains a few minor victories and support from the common folk. Then, you might rouse Nakos to take more direct action, and he will use the power of his Voice to eradicate you and your faith. Without a means of combating his advantages in numbers, resources and power, you would be crushed in a day."

The elf took an empty glass, poured herself a glass of wine, and continued. "My people and I, however, have experienced considerable success against his kind before. You will need what we know to be successful in your attempt to retake the crown of Westeros and end Nakos and his supporters."

"And what is in it for you, stranger?" the High Sparrow asked. "You are of Tamriel yourself, and people from that country are all aligned with him."

"True," the elf said as she took a drink, "but we were the ones who refrained from aiding him in his fight against Dagon."

Cersei narrowed her eyes as realization dawned on her. "Your from the Aldmeri Dominion, aren't you?" she asked. "I read about your Dominion in some of the books from Tamriel. You defeated the Empire in the Great War."

The Altmer smiled slightly. "That is correct, Lady Cersei. I am the First Emissary of the Dominion, but you may know me as Elenwen."


	3. By the Faith and Sword

**Loredas, the 15th of Sun's Dusk**

 **Red Keep, King's Landing**

Nakos sat at the desk of his personal chambers, reading through several letters that had arrived from all over Westeros. Most of them were simply letters of congratulations for Nesaerys' Nameday, and others were requests for supplies, coming from all over Westeros. Dany, meanwhile, was reclining in bed. "Where is Rhaelor?"

"Where do you think?" Nakos replied with a smile. "He rarely leaves the library." Nakos went over the latest reports from the Wall. Other than the usual foray beyond the Wall, nothing unusual was seen beyond the broken bodies of the Daedra that was harvested and odd Daedric weapon or two that were mostly found around White Tree and Craster's old keep.

"Do you ever worry about him?" she asked. "That he's not spending enough time training with weapons?"

"As long as he can protect himself, I'm not worried. And if he wants to spend his time in books, I won't argue." Nakos chuckled a bit to himself. "Rhaelor reminds me of my younger brother. Cyrus almost never left my town's library, and he became a diplomat."

"Sounds boring," Dany joked. "At least Nesaerys will be the fighting one in our family."

Nakos chuckled. "They'll both be able to fight in their own way. Don't be too quick to discount the power of a smart mind. Remember, Sansa doesn't know much of the way of weapons, but she is formidable in her own right, as a practitioner of magic. Then there are other uses of a sharp mind, like my brother, or Tyrion, or Samwell Tarly." Nakos sighed at the mention of Sam as he went through some more letters. "His father disowned him and sent him to the Wall because Sam didn't want to be a fighter, and chose to read books and use his brain. I don't think that was kind or wise. A mind can be just as sharp and powerful as a sword. Both are formidable weapons. It all depends on how you use it."

Dany got off the bed and wrapped her arms around Nakos' neck from behind. "And I am thankful you know how to use both."

Nakos turned from his work and kissed Dany on the cheek. "Took years of practice and patience. Besides, it was also necessary. There was much to learn, and little time to learn it. In times of relative peace like this, the necessity is not so great, so the children learn what they are best suited for better, rather than trying to cram it all in at once as fast as they can in case it becomes needed." Nakos then scratched his goateed chin in thought for a moment. "Come to think of it. I learned magic on the fly without much guidance. I never attended to the College of Winterhold to learn magic. I think Sansa may have even exceeded me in arcane knowledge."

Dany sat on Nakos' lap and rested her head on her husband's. "Well then, should we send Rhaelor to one of the magic schools? Perhaps the Wolfswood College? Or perhaps wait until he makes his pilgrimage to High Hrothgar and have him attend the College of Winterhold?"

"I don't know. He's still so young. We should wait and see what he decides to do first. Then we can plan properly."

A knock sounded at the door before they could talk about the situation any further. "Come in," Nakos said and Jon Stark came in, escorting Robb Stark.

"My brother, Your Grace," Jon announced.

Robb bowed to the king and queen. "Your Graces."

"Lord Stark," Dany greeted the Warden of the North with a gentle embrace. "Would you like some wine?"

"Of course," Robb said, taking a seat.

Dany poured three goblets of wine and passed one to Robb. "I assume you came here to talk about Nesaerys visiting Winterfell."

"Indeed I have." Robb took the goblet and took a sip. "Has Nesaerys talked to you?"

"She has," Nakos answered. "And I think it's a good idea."

Robb seemed pleased to hear it, but still had to ask. "You do?"

Nakos nodded. "I have known your family for a long time. Your sister, Sansa, was one of the first members of the Starks I met when I arrived… and one of the first people I helped. Besides, it would do Nesaerys some good to get out of the city and see the wider world. She'll need to experience some of it before making her pilgrimage to High Hrothgar in Skyrim."

"It is a month's journey to Winterfell," Robb noted.

"When do you plan to leave, Lord Robb?" inquired Dany.

"As soon as possible," answered Robb. "Today, if we could. But how long do you expect her to stay in Winterfell?"

Nakos took a sip of wine before he answered. "I had been entertaining the idea of her being fostered there for a few months. Perhaps years. That's what Jon Arryn did with your father and Robert Baratheon, if I am not mistaken."

"You're not," said Robb. "Are you sure you can stand being away from her for so long?"

"I would visit every month, but I wouldn't be sending her alone to Winterfell," Nakos replied. "And it's not that I don't trust you. But I would feel more comfortable sending her with better protection."

"Of course," Robb chuckled. "I would expect nothing less, Your Grace."

"How fares the rest of your family, Lord Stark?" Dany asked.

"Well. My mother remains in Winterfell. Sansa spends most of her time in the Wolfswood College. Bran has joined the Thieves Guild, why I do not know."

Nakos suppressed a smile, already knowing that. As Bran had met Nocturnal, the Daedric Prince had given him back the use of his legs, and Nocturnal had influence with the Guild, Bran felt it made sense to lend his talents to the Daedric Prince. Bran did not become a thief, though. He was more of a scout or lookout... or spy, akin to one of Varys' little birds.

Robb continued. "Rickon has begun his training with the Dawnguard stationed at Winterfell. Arya..." his voice trailed off. "She always seems to appear and disappear on me. The last time I saw her was at the Nameday festival."

Nakos suppressed another smile. "She tends to do that to me as well," he lied.

"When… or if you see her, can you tell her her brother misses her?"

"I'm sure she knows," Nakos replied. "But I do not wish to keep you any longer as I know you would like to leave soon. I will tell Nesaerys to prepare to leave with you, although I have a feeling she already has. I will also send Farkas and Vilkas with her for protection."

Robb stood. "I will guard her as if she is my own."

"I would hope so," Dany said, her mouth a hard line. "If anything were to happen to her, fire will rain down on Winterfell."

Robb bit his lips nervously, not sure if that was a genuine threat or not. "I will make sure she stays safe. Now I must take my leave of you. Your Graces." With a bow, Robb opened the door and on the other side was Tyrion, about to knock.

"Ah, Lord Stark," Tyrion bowed. "Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all. I was just leaving for Winterfell and wanted to talk with His Grace for a moment. Unfortunately, I cannot speak for much longer, it is a long ride to Winterfell."

"I remember very well," Tyrion said with a small smile. "Well, I won't keep you any longer." After Robb left, Tyrion entered. "Your Graces. We have visitors. From Braavos."

* * *

"My lords," Nakos greeted the representatives from Braavos in the Tower of the Hand. "Welcome to King's Landing."

"King Nakos," one of the men bowed. "I am Larazo Orloris, First Sword of Braavos." The man had messy auburn hair and dark green eyes that eyed Nakos with concern. "These are my fellow Braavosi who served the Sealord, Adarys Ostah and Jaerys Sorryl."

"Welcome, friends," Tyrion greeted. "Please sit."

"I assume you know why we are here," Adarys said as he took a seat along with his fellow Braavosi.

"I had heard about the death of the Sealord," Nakos answered. "I am sorry for your loss."

"And can I assume you heard about the _manner_ of his death," Larazo stated rather than asked.

"That I have not heard," Nakos lied.

The First Sword cleared his throat. "The Sealord was killed by one of the assassins from Tamriel. He left behind a parchment with a black handprint."

"Did you perhaps bring this parchment with you?"

Larazo nodded and going into his belt, took out the parchment and handed it to Nakos. Nakos looked it over. "We know?" he asked aloud. "Know what?"

Larazo looked confused. "I don't understand."

"From what little I know about the Dark Brotherhood," Nakos explained, "They usually kill their targets because of something they had done. Perhaps they crossed someone, or interfered in the Brotherhood's affairs. The Dark Brotherhood usually prefer to remain out of the affairs of everyone else, so they would have had a good reason for killing him, assuming they did."

"Are you suggesting that the Sealord was guilty of something?" Jaerys asked with a slight sneer of his lips.

"Not at all," Nakos said. "Good reasons for the Dark Brotherhood are somewhat… open to interpretation. That being said, my point was that this is not something the Dark Brotherhood would do on its own without good cause. Unless you think they were hired to perform an assassination mission under contract, I have little reason to suspect them of doing this."

"You seem protective of these assassins, King Nakos," Larazo sneered.

"They are of Tamriel," Nakos replied firmly. "Despite their actions and reputation, they are still my people. I want to make sure we consider all other options before I suspect them of killing someone across the Narrow Sea." Nakos then raised not one, but two parchments in his hands. "Besides, your evidence is forged."

"And how do you know that?" the First Sword asked.

Nakos smiled slightly. "Many reasons. But the first thing you should know about the Dark Brotherhood when they mock their victims to instil fear is that they always write their letters to victims and associates, is that they are always inked in blood. The one you recovered and brought here is inked in ordinary black ink and on clean parchment."

"Clean parchment?"

"Yes. The forgery is too clean. Whoever did this overplayed their part, and created a forgery that is too perfect to be real."

"Forgive me for asking, Your Grace," Tyrion spoke up finally, "but how would you know this."

Nakos held up the real letter. "This was from when the Dark Brotherhood tried to kill me before. I took this off of the body of one of their number when they ambushed me in the wilds of Skyrim many years ago. I keep it as a… personal reminder." The room was silent at this 'revelation.' But of course, that was a lie. It was just one of many letters Nakos had written himself before killing many a target in Skyrim.

"I am sorry, Your Grace," Tyrion said soothingly. "I... didn't know."

Nakos waved his hand dismissively. "It was a long time ago, during my first year in Skyrim. I have long forgotten about it by now." He turned back to face his guests. "If you would allow me, I can send people to help you investigate the truth behind the Sealord's murder."

"Forgive me, Nakos," Larazo sneered as he and his friends stood. "But I don't exactly trust you just yet. We will find the murderer ourselves and bring them to justice. If you will excuse us." With a shallow bow, he and the other left the room.

"Well," Tyrion said. "You tried. Trust takes time and effort to build, yet it only takes one suspicious act to bring it all down. And we didn't even have anything to do with it."

"Indeed," Nakos sighed, feigning disappointment. But it didn't matter. He already had people there.

* * *

 **Loredas, the 15th of Sun's Dusk**

 **Braavos**

The moonlight shone brightly in the sky and the security at the Sealord's Palace was high, which made sense. But the darkness was perfect and Arya felt more at home in the shadows than she did in Winterfell or even in King's Landing. She offered a quick, silent prayer to Sithis as she and her team snuck towards the back entrance of the palace and were not surprised to see several guards standing by the door.

"Great," Morgen groaned, "How in Oblivion are we supposed to get in now?"

"We're not going to kill them?" Camaron asked, sounding disappointed.

"And draw further unwanted attention?" Arya scoffed. "How about no." After a moment of thought, she spoke again. "It may be best if we split up in two groups. One group goes through the windows while the second goes through the door. We can cover more ground than if we're together, and it will be easier to sneak around if we're not all one group."

"And how exactly are we to deal with the guards?" Morgen asked.

"We knock them out. We _don't_ kill them," Arya answered with a smirk. "Jax. You, Morgen, and I will take care of the guards and enter the door. The rest of you, take your grappling hooks, climb the walls, and enter by one of the windows. We'll regroup in five minutes in the top floor hallway."

"No killing?" Jax huffed. "That's no fun."

"It's too big a risk, Jax," Kirsten replied. "Their leader was just assassinated, and the Dark Brotherhood is to blame. What would they think if their guards were to die almost two weeks after?"

"Fine," the Imperial sighed in disappointment. "I'll try not to kill anyone."

"You _won't_ kill anyone," Arya reprimanded, her face as hard as stone. "I'll leave you here myself if you do."

Jax raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't."

Arya chuckled once. "Want to risk it?"

Jax stared at her for a moment before smiling. "I like you already."

"Don't get too attached," she quipped with a smirk. "Now let's move before the sun comes up."

Arya and her group waited for Jax, Kirsten, and Cassius to make their way towards the side of the building and they disappeared into the shadows. She waited a few moments longer before she, Morgen, and Camaron snuck towards the rear entrance. They could not get as close as they liked due to the nearby sconces shining light near and on the guards. If they tried to get any closer, they would be spotted.

"Any ideas, princess?" Jax quipped silently.

Arya glared at him and took out a set of blowdarts. "Here you go, genius. Just make sure you aim right at the neck."

"You think this is the first time I've used a blowdart?" asked Jax.

"You're with the Dark Brotherhood," Arya retorted. "You have no need of a blowdart. You'd use your dagger."

Jax smirked. "True."

Arya handed a set of blowdarts to Morgen. "Make them count, Morgen."

"Oh, I plan to," Morgen said with a smile. She took the blowpipe in her mouth and on Arya's signal, they blew a dart into the guards' necks. Their aim was true and the guards slumped to the floor, asleep and unconscious. After dragging them into the shadows and extinguishing the flames, they snuck to the door.

"How long will it take to pick the lock?" Arya asked them.

Jax smirked. "Watch me work, princess."

"Stop calling me that."

Jax crouched in front of the door and began picking the lock. "But you _are_ a princess."

"Wrong. I'm a lady. Not a Princess."

"Same thing. You're the sister of a noble lord. You just don't live in a castle like Nakos."

"So if I were to call you an idiot instead of a jerk, would that mean the same thing?" Arya smirked at her own words. Jax smirked himself, but had no ready answer.

Morgen chuckled. "There _are_ shadows over there if you two need time to fuck."

Arya did her best not to laugh or chuckle. "Sounds like something an old friend of Nakos would say."

"Besides," Jax looked up at them, "If we did, we would be here a _long_ time."

Arya just rolled her eyes. The click of a lock told them the door was open. They cracked the door open just enough for them to slip in. They were in what appeared to be an empty basement. A flight of steps was visible down the hallway. They slowly snuck up the steps and found themselves in a long hallway.

"Now where are the Sealord's Chambers?" Arya asked.

"I bet it's the only room without any guards," Morgen answered. "They would want to leave the room undisturbed so they can investigate themselves."

"Makes sense," Jax replied. "But there are few rooms without guards. How will we know when we find it?"

"Oh, I'm sure one of the guards will know," Arya said.

"And how exactly are we supposed to question a guard without witnesses?" Morgen asked.

"I'm sure Princess here will find a way," Jax said with a wink aimed at the Stark.

"I so want to kill you right now," Arya grumbled. "We can knock them out, and use this." Arya held up a needle. "It has a memory wiping poison, enough to wipe out the days worth of memories."

"And who is the unlucky target?" asked Jax.

"I think the captain of the guard will know where the chambers is, and much more if we need to ask him."

"The captain of the guard?" Morgen's eyes went wide. " Are you crazy? He'll be the most protected man here!"

"I'm sure you've worked in worse situations, Morgen," Jax replied. "I know I have, and I'm sure Princess has. We'll be fine. Now how do we find the barracks?"

"Follow the guards," replied Arya. "They'll be changing the shift soon." Movement behind them caught her eye. Instinctively, she drew her dagger and twirled around only to see Kirsten and the others. "Just in time. We're about to infiltrate the barracks and interrogate a guard to find out where the Sealord's chambers are."

"And she wants to interrogate the captain of the guard," Morgen grumbled.

"Are you crazy?!" Kirsten whispered harshly.

"That's what I said," Morgen said.

"You have a better option?" asked Arya.

"I'm sure _any_ of the other guards know where the chambers are," answered Kirsten. "And we don't risk revealing ourselves. We may be good, but we're not _that_ good."

"She has a point, Princess," said Jax. "Not to mention we can get a simple guard by himself much easier than the captain."

Arya quickly went through her options in her head. "Fine. We'll find a guard and question him."

It didn't take long to find one: a long guard taking what seemed to be an illicit wine break, hiding in a dark corner and drinking straight from the bottle. He even kept looked around to make sure no one was watching. As Camaron was the strongest of the group, Arya signaled for him to grab the lone guard. With a nod, he walked behind the guard and grabbed him in a choke hold, causing him to drop the bottle.

Arya caught it before it hit the ground and gave a small, evil smile. "Shame on you. This is why you don't take stray from your post. You could get caught drinking wine." She drew a dagger and placed it against the guard's throat. "Now don't scream, or you'll earn a red smile."

The guard looked frantically and fearfully at the assassins and thieves that stepped out of the shadows. "Who… who.. in Seven Hells are you?" he barely wheezed through the choke hold.

"That doesn't matter," Arya replied. "What does matter is where we can find the Sealord's Chambers."

"Now why would I-" the guard began before being cut off by Camaron tightening his hold.

"Wrong answer, friend," Camaron said firmly. "Let's try again. Where are the Sealord's Chambers?"

"Top floor. West side. You can't miss it."

Arya smirked. "See. That wasn't so hard." In the blink of an eye, she jammed the needle in his neck. His eyes rolled back and he went limp. Camaron gently let him down so as not to make a noise.

"Hold on." Jax took the bottle from Arya the bottle and laid it flat near the unconscious guard's hand.

"Ah, smart move," Arya said. She understood what Jax was doing. If a fellow guard were to pass by and find him, the wine bottle and his memory loss would make them think he had drunk too much. Jax said nothing in reply, but only winked. "We should move," Arya said and the group made their way to the top floor, avoiding guards along the way. Once they reached the Sealord's Chambers and after picking the lock, Arya had Camaron and Cassius stand guard while she and the others checked inside the room.

Morgen made a beeline for the desk and picked the locks of the drawers. "What exactly are we looking for?"

"Anything that can help," answered Arya. "Anything that can point to why he died and who killed him."

"Well, that narrows it down," Jax quipped as he search a bookshelf in between the pages.

"Gods, do you ever shut up?" Kirsten sighed in frustration.

"No," Jax shook his head. "Not really."

"Well, you should start before something happens to you," Kirsten said.

"You both know better than that. No fighting or killing among ourselves. Now shut up and look!"

"Oh, please," Jax chuckled. "That was not a real threat. She wouldn't kill me. Beat me up, maybe. But not kill me."

"Be careful what you wish for, Jax." Morgen quipped. "She may hurt you in ways you may not expect. She could be pretty rough."

"Well, lucky for both of us, I like it rough."

"Oh, so your flirting _isn't_ limited to just me," Arya said. Jax just shrugged.

"I think I found something," Morgen said and she pulled a journal from the desk, along with several letters and documents. Her friends joined her around the desk.

"What did you find?" asked Kirsten.

Morgen looked through the letters quickly. "Shipping manifests. Personal letters. City business." She came across another letter. "Hmm… the harbor masters' reports say that several unmarked ships of unknown make recently arrived."

Arya didn't have to ask before Kirsten nodded. "I'll tell Cassius and Camaron to take a look at the harbor."

Arya nodded, then turned back to the documents and the journal. "Check the last weeks worth of entries in the journal, Morgen. Jax, keep looking through the letters."

Morgen flipped through the pages of the book as Jax took to reading the documents. It wasn't until Morgen got to the last entry of the journal that she began to read. "' _Spoke to the leader of those unmarked ships today. He was one of those Tamriel Elves. Altmer, I think they were called. High Elves. One of them went by the name Ancano..._ '"

Arya slammed her hand on the journal and ran around to read it for herself. "Ancano?! Seven hells…"

"' _He claimed to want to set up a new trade agreement with Tamriel on behalf of King Nakos._ " Morgen continued to read. " _I don't like this guy… he seems like a viper, a liar. He knows how to play the political game of Westeros all too well, and he seemed far too overconfident. I invited him and his assistant to dinner to get a better judge of his character, but I plan to get confirmation from king Nakos himself. Just need to buy time…'"_

"Ancano… the gods damn Thalmor are here in Essos!" Arya ground her teeth, remembering all the things she had heard of the Dominion's ruling body from Nakos and many of the Tamrielians, and Ancano in particular from Sansa. Nothing about the Thalmor were ever good for anyone but themselves. This could mean real trouble, and Arya knew it.

* * *

 **Morndas, the 17th of Sun's Dusk**

 **King's Landing**

The High Sparrow watched as Lancel Lannister lay back in a chair, while another Sparrow cut the Faith of the Seven symbol into his forehead. Lancel was only one of several Sparrows who wished to get the symbol cut into their forehead to show that they were a part of the new Faith Militant. But the High Sparrow was not alone. Several Altmer were behind him, witnessing the strange ritual.

"What is that symbol?" Naranbar Elsinious, one of the Thalmor asked.

"The Seven-Pointed Star is the symbol of the Faith of the Seven," the High Sparrow explained. "It shows everyone who we are."

"And how exactly is that supposed to strike fear into your enemies?" Aldaril Koriuth, another Thalmor asked.

"Who said we wished to strike fear into anyone?" the High Sparrow asked. "It is meant to be a show of devotion to our gods, not a fear tactic to strike terror at people."

"I think it will do more that that," Aesril Koriuth said, "especially towards those who are from Tamriel."

Naranbar's reaction was a little different. His eyes showed contempt more than the others. "Pfft. Self mutilation. Humans are strange…" he said quietly.

His comment did not go unheard by the High Sparrow. "As are you. How exactly are you going to help us?"

"Whatever you're about to do," Naranbar answered with a sneer. "We're to help you accomplish it. That's all you need to know. But _do_ know that we will never reveal ourselves until the time is right. If you tell Nakos who we are..." He left the rest unsaid… and implied.

"It's done," the Sparrow said. Lancel sat up and felt the scarred star on his forehead. It was still wet with blood.

The High Sparrow stood in front of Brother Lancel. "Brother Lancel, are you prepared to undertake your first test?"

* * *

King's Landing was rife with chaos as men, women, children, and non-humans ran in all directions from the Faith Militant. They went from tavern to tavern, destroying all the wine in the barrels, and vandalizing brothels. They also walked through the streets, turning over tables of the Tamriel merchants who were selling shrines and amulets of the Nine Divines. But their vandalism did not stop there. A small group of them even went into the Temple of the Divines and began to vandalize it as well. They drove out the people who were worshipping there and began to beat on the priestesses of Dibella… as well as the patrons who were there. The City Watch was kept at bay by a surprisingly well armed Faith Militant armed with what appeared to be elvish weapons. None of the City Watch died, but the distraction and fighting was enough for the rest of the Militant to do their job.

Meanwhile, a number of Faith Militant, including Lancel, walked into the Great Sept, where people were worshipping. They spotted Loras Tyrell praying. "Seize him," one of the militants said.

The militants rushed forward and grabbed the Tyrell roughly. "Get your hands off of me."

Lancel walked forward and glared at Loras. "Ser Loras of House Tyrell, you have broken the laws of Gods and men."

Loras scoffed. "Who do you think you are?"

Lancel glared right back. "Justice." At a nod, the militants dragged Loras away.

* * *

The door to Nakos' chambers burst open and an angry Margaery Tyrell strode in, followed by Mjoll. She walked up to the desk where Nakos was working and angrily put her hands on the table. "Why is my brother in a cell?!"

"I'm sorry, Your Grace. I tried to stop her," Mjoll apologized, but Nakos held up his hand.

"It's alright," he said before turning back to Margaery. "What are you talking about?"

"My brother was arrested by the Faith Militant and placed in a cell in the Great Sept. _You_ said you had no problem with him."

Nakos furrowed his brow and he stood. "I _don't_. And I certainly did not order the arrest of your brother."

Margaery visibly relaxed. "Then who did?"

Nakos thought for a moment. "I think I have an idea."

* * *

Nakos and his Royal Guard walked towards the Great Sept and made it to the bottom of the steps. He saw some Faith Militant stand guarding the steps. When they saw Nakos approaching, they quickly stood and blocked Nakos and his guards from walking up.

"His Holiness is praying," one of the militant said. "He will not be disturbed."

"Well," Nakos said, folding his arms. "You can tell the High Sparrow that the king demands to see him."

"The High Sparrow does not recognize your authority," the militant replied.

"Hah," Nakos laughed once. "If you do not move now, I will force you aside… with my Voice."

The Faith Militant actually took a step back, earning a few snickers from the Royal Guard, but when Nakos took a step forward, the Militant again took a step forward to block his way.

Nakos heard a few of the Royal Guard draw their swords a bit, but he waved them down. He took a deep breath and Shouted once. " _ **FUS!**_ " All of the Militant stumbled backwards to the ground, even tripping over each other as they fell.

Nakos did not wait for them to get up, but stepped over them and walked up the steps. "Watch them," he ordered the Royal Guard as he entered the Great Sept.

The High Sparrow was there in the main hall, almost as if he was waiting for Nakos. "I should have assumed that the Faith Militant would not have stopped you, Nakos."

Nakos ignored the fact that he did not say 'Your Grace'. "I hear you arrested Ser Loras Tyrell and started civil unrest all over King's Landing."

"I am simply trying to restore order to the city," the High Sparrow said with a shrug. "Order that you caused an imbalance in once you became king."

Nakos folded his arms. "And vandalizing temples and brothels and merchants creates order?"

"The Faith of the Seven looks down on such actions. As for those merchants, they were selling false idols."

"I believe we discussed this before, High Sparrow," Nakos said, as his lips curled back. "You are a member of a faith, not an advocate of law. If I have to remind you of this, then perhaps I was not as clear as I should have been. I will say this, only once more. You do not get to arbitrate law or dictate punishment. It is not up to us to carry out the god's justice. The judgement for the gods is left solely at the hands of the gods when a mortal's time has come, and not before. We can only carry out the justice of mortals, and we who rule and bear responsibility for carrying out that justice must also be judged before the gods when our time comes."

"Well, then," the High Sparrow smiled. "If it is our job to carry out the justice of mortals, then perhaps you will be interested in coming to Ser Loras' inquest, where he will be judged, not by the gods, but by men."

Nakos' face was stern, and brokered no argument. "For what crime, and under what law, has Ser Loras violated? If you say the laws of your faith, then I will tell you now, it will be an illegitimate judgement, and I will be forced to take steps. If he has violated a rightful law of mortals, then, and only then, will I consider attending your inquest. Speak, High Sparrow."

"He has broken laws of mortals. But in order to find out, you must attend the inquest, Your Grace. Loras has not been charged with a crime, yet. But we hold him for questioning. Once we have the inquest, you will be notified and you are welcome to attend."

"I hope so," Nakos replied. "If you do not…" Nakos left the rest unsaid as he left the Great Sept.

* * *

 **Turdas, the 20th of Sun's Dusk**

 **Meereen**

Preqhaz na Nozzazn, a thinly built Slave Master, walked through the dark streets of Meereen, avoiding any city guards that he could. Ever since the king and queen of Westeros banished slavery and placed one of their own in charge, the remaining slave masters who hadn't fled had hid, still trying to make profits through smuggling slaves. They even tried stirring up the people and leading revolts. But those revolts barely lasted a day before the leader was cut down by the city guard. No innocent blood was shed, though.

After a few single ill-fated attempts, the slave masters decided that enough was enough and wanted to meet together. Preqhaz had a cowl over his head in order to hide from the city guard, in case they recognized his face. He went into a tavern and the bartender directed him to the basement, where other slave masters were gathered around a wooden table.

"You're late," one of them said with a sneer.

"I'm sorry for not rushing here, Hizdak mo Maze," Preqhaz shot back sarcastically. "I had to avoid a legion of city guards on the way here. Had they seen me, I would have been thrown in a dungeon."

"Well, we're all here now," Zakhar na Lazke sighed. "We should not waste any more time here." At the murmurs of agreement, he continued. "Now we all know why we're here. We have had enough of the leadership that the foreigner has put in place. Meereen and Astapor and Yunkai have flourished on slavery. But now we have lost that. We lost what was once great for us, and we aim to get it back."

"And how do you expect to do that?" Prakheil zo Rarrin asked. "Every attempt we have made has failed. What makes you think we can do it working together?"

"Because we _are_ working together," Zakhar replied. "The city guards and the leader stopped us because we worked separately. They won't be able to stop us if we worked together."

"You _do_ know that these are the same people who killed wights and White Walkers and monsters from another world," Preqhaz said with a scoff. "I don't think a group of simple slave masters could stand up against them." At that, a few masters murmured in agreement.

"We are outnumbered," another master spoke up. "Our resources are far too limited, and we are overpowered by them at every turn. They even have dragons, like the ancient wars of Ghis against the might of Valyria."

The table fell silent for a moment. "So we are expected to stand by and do nothing?" Zakhar asked.

"Of course not," a strange voice came from the shadowed entryway. The masters all jumped to their feet when they say the tall gold-skinned man walk in. The stranger was not alone, either. Several others like him walked into the room from the entryway.

"Give us one reason why we shouldn't kill you now," Zakhar sneered.

"Several reasons," the Altmer said, "but let's begin with the fact that if you try it, I will kill you all the very instant you draw your blades." The stranger raised a single hand, and within was a pulsating ball of electrical energy. The sight of magic caused the masters to step back again. "And this is just me."

One of the masters was about to rush him, but Preqhaz stopped him. "No. I want to hear what he has to say."

"Smart man," the Altmer smirked and took a seat without asking. The other strangers made a half-circle around him. "Now, let's think back to a little more than ten years ago, when all of you had a thriving slave economy." The elf tented his fingertips. "Then a young woman and her lover came along and took the city from you, just as she had done to Astapor and Yunkai. She took the one thing that you relied on to survive in this city. She even killed most of you by crucifying you to signposts. Now, she and her lover, now husband, are living across the Narrow Sea as the king and queen of Westeros. But even now, they have a stranglehold on you. Even now, you are afraid of them. What happened? Did you lose your balls, like the Unsullied?" He and the elves behind him chuckled sinisterly.

"Get to the point!" Zakhar sneered.

The Altmer only glanced at the master before rolling his eyes. "The point is that you have lost your edge, your killer instinct. You have lost what gave the old Ghiscari Empire had: the will and drive to challenge even the might of Valyria five times." The Altmer took on a look of contemplation. "It would seem that you need assistance, if you are serious about taking back your city, and indeed all of Slaver's Bay."

"We _are_ serious," Preqhaz said, putting a hand up to stop Zakhar from saying anything stupid. "But the issue still stands of how we are to stand up against such a formidable fighting force."

The Altmer leaned forward and rested his head on his closed fists. "We have experience in dealing with such things, my friends. We have dealt with an empire of dragons before, and defeated them. We brought a continent-spanning empire to its knees. You would be well advised to hire us, and together we can help you take the necessary steps to ensure victory. Already others of our order have taken steps to press the enemy closer to their home. Now you have an advantage you didn't have before."

"And what advantage would that be?" Zakhar hissed.

At this, the Altmer smiled sinisterly. "The dragon's eyes are focused elsewhere. With the distraction my superiors have arranged, you and your groups can operate more openly and freely. With the armaments we can provide and the magical assistances we offer, Slaver's Bay will be cut off from Nakos' control. All those loyal to him will be trapped within the three Slaver Cities, ready for the slaughter... or enslavement as you see fit. Meanwhile, our ships can transport your people between the three cities quickly and efficiently."

The masters looked at each other, nodding slowly. Others were not so convinced. "What if we refuse?"

The elf shrugged. "Then you won't get our help. Simple as that."

Preqhaz leaned forward. "What should we call you?"

The elf smiled. "We are the Thalmor, and you can call me Estermo." He looked at the masters present. "And what about you humans? What do we call you?"

Preqhaz thought for a moment and the smallest of smiles came across his face. "Sons of the Harpy."


	4. First Blood

**Loredas, 22nd of Sun's Dusk**

 **Red Keep, King's Landing**

The Royal Council was silent as Nakos read aloud the reports he had received from Braavos. Of course, no one except Brynjolf and Urag truly knew who the Thalmor were, but once he explained who they were to the Westerosi, they understood the situation they were in.

"What kind of trouble can they cause, exactly?" Tyrion asked.

"The worst kinds, and more of it than you can possibly imagine." Nakos rubbed his chin. "These Thalmor are fanatical, but competent and strong. They literally brought the Empire to the brink of annihilation, and they did it not just through strength of arms, but through political subterfuge, sabotage, assassination, and propaganda."

"Sounds like the Game," Tyrion said dryly.

"Indeed," Nakos said. "When the Dominion goes to war, they do it in multiple ways, and they are very good at it. They can take decades to plan, and move their pieces into place. They have the patience for long, drawn out wars. They planned for over a century to defeat the Empire, and they succeeded, forcing the then Emperor into the most unfavourable of choices."

"Do you think this is one of their moves?" Theon asked.

"I would bet my last septim on it. They stayed out of the war against Dagon intentionally, but I wouldn't have put it past them to have planted moles and spies within our ranks to get all the intelligence they needed on this side of the world. Nothing they do is without cautious planning and calculation."

"Do you want to look within our ranks for the moles?" Varys asked softly.

Nakos shook his head. "You won't find them. They are very good at remaining hidden within the ranks of people they can blend in with. It was only by pure chance that I managed to uncover the few that I did. Gissur was a Nord mole working in the Thieves Guild, and I only knew he was a mole because he was in the Thalmor Embassy when I raided it."

"Then what do you propose we do?" Brynjolf asked.

Tyrion cleared his throat. "I would suggest we continue as normal. Act as if we don't know about their presence. But we need to keep our eyes open. If the Thalmor are responsible for what happened in Braavos, and for the death of the Sealord, then they may be making their moves. I also have a strange suspicion that the Thalmor may be responsible for a few other things that have come up recently. I don't like coincidences, especially when the Dominion is involved if half of what Nakos said is to be believed, and I don't see why it wouldn't be." Tyrion let the sentence hang in the air for a moment.

"I disagree," Dercin, the Grand Maester said. "I think the Thalmor deserve to burn. You have the dragons. Why not just end them once and for all?"

Nakos looked at Dercin like he had grown a second head. "Are you acting like a fool? Or are you really an idiot? The Thalmor are among innocent civilians, Dercin. If I unleash the dragons in an attempt to attack the Thalmor within the city walls, I am going to kill untold numbers of civilians, and cause incredible destruction to the city. Whether it be in Braavos, or here in King's Landing, I am not going to burn, freeze, or knock to the ground the lives and livelihoods of innocent people to kill one enemy."

"Sometimes you must be willing to make such sacrifice… Your Grace." Dercin added the last words as a prick to Nakos, but Nakos ignored it.

"You ask for a warhammer solution to a problem that requires a scalpel." Nakos leaned forward. "Precision, not brute force is needed here. I will not sacrifice people needlessly when we have other means to do the job, Dercin. Don't ever suggest the needless sacrifice of innocent beings so carelessly. I'm not a tyrant or a monster, and you were not there when I took a million fighters north of the wall. Don't think I would not do what is needed if the situation makes it necessary."

Nakos took on a saddened look, as the memory of a third of his forces dying due to the overwhelming cold in the Lands of Always Winter, and another to the forces of Dagon. But those men and women were given a choice, knowing what was at risk and what was at stake. Dercin was proposing to eradicate an entire population of innocent people just because they were in proximity to a dangerous foe among them, and they didn't even know it. They would all die, and not even know the reason.

"I agree with Tyrion," Nakos said finally. "We wait until we can find out more information. And we keep our eyes open. That is it." The council members nodded and got up to leave, but a glance at Varys and Brynjolf told them to stay. When they were alone, he spoke again. "Tell our spies in Braavos to keep looking. Find out what the Thalmor are doing in Braavos, and sabotage what they can. We need to slow them down, give us time to find out their plans."

The Masters of Whisperers bowed. "We'll send the word along, Your Grace."

They left Nakos with several members of the Royal Guard and Tyrion. After a moment of silence, he turned to Mjoll. "I hope I'm doing the right thing."

Mjoll shrugged hesitantly. "I can't give advice, Your Grace. If you need _that_ , Tyrion would be-"

"I'm not asking for advice as a king," Nakos said with a small smile. "I'm asking as a friend. Walk with me." He stood and made his way out of the council room, the Royal Guard following. Mjoll walked alongside him. "I know you don't approve of me working with spies, thieves, and assassins. I'm sure you've had your fair share of trouble of them in Riften. But this is the Thalmor we're speaking of. There is a part of me that wants nothing more than to destroy them totally, but I know I cannot risk the lives of innocents. I _also_ know that waiting and doing nothing will only give them more time to prepare whatever schemes they have. Even having the spies look out after them and informing me of their movements will not be enough." A few nobles bowed as he walked past.

"And besides the Thalmor in Braavos," Nakos continued. "I also have the Faith Militant to contend with. Two enemies at once. I'm not sure which is the biggest threat. Should I focus on the Thalmor or the High Sparrow?"

"The Thalmor are an enemy we know, but… if you want the truth, Nakos, I wouldn't be surprised if this Faith Militant had been in contact with them for the very reasons you stated earlier." Mjoll hesitantly replied, knowing she probably sounded paranoid, but with the Thalmor, anything was possible.

Nakos thought for a moment. "Perhaps. I would not put it past them. But it's also possible that the High Sparrow has reasons of his own to do what he did… with some help from Cersei Lannister."

Mjoll groaned inwardly. "I thought she would have learned by now."

Nakos chuckled dryly. "I did, too. But I am not going to accuse her until I know the facts. Maybe the High Sparrow is acting on his own volition. If that's the case, regardless if she contacted him for her own reasons, she might bite off more than she can handle on her own." She had made that mistake with Mephala, it wouldn't surprise him if it happened again.

* * *

 **Middas, 26th of Sun's Dusk**

 **Meereen**

"You know, you never did tell me why you decided to swoop into Meereen, Lady Volkihar," Daario Naharis said as he watched the vampire look over the night sky in the Great Pyramid of Meereen.

Serana smirked, doing her best to hide her fangs. "Maybe I like the scenery?"

The mercenary only chuckled. "Nakos sent you here, didn't he? It's about the only reason someone like yourself would risk such...exposure." She looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow, more out of surprise than alarm that he had seen through her. The man only smirked and crossed his arms. "You don't get as far as I did in the Fighting Pits by being stupid, or blind."

"Makes sense. How long have you known?"

Daario shrugged. "Ever since you came here. I had time to do research on Tamriel. I rarely see you during the day. You always come out at night, and when you're out here, I don't see you eat or drink. That and I've heard rumors certain prisoners slated for execution tend to look a little pale and glassy eyed, with reports of a hooded woman slipping away. This to me says a lot."

Serana gave a single chuckle and raised her eyebrow again. "Guess I need to brush up on my sneaking around. That does raise a question, though. You're not worried I might bite?"

"Not at all. The fact Nakos trusts you is enough for me. Besides, you never know. I may like being bit."

Serana only shook her head. "That's not the kind I'm talking about."

"I know." Daario replied, his grin only widening to encompass most of his face. "I have seen demons rise from the depths of Oblivion, summoned by mages of your country, and I have seen dragons return. A woman who needs the blood of the living to sustain herself is rather small compared to what I have seen. With that in mind, even before my world turned upside down, I was never one to turn down a chance to make love to a willing woman, even if she is… somewhat dead. As I told my former compatriots however, before I removed their heads, they could keep their whores and their slaves. You cannot make love to property."

"Does that line work on all the women you meet?" Serana asked, her yellow eyes shining in more than their usual fashion as she looked at Daario with more than passing interest now. He was...intriguing, for a mortal.

"Only on ones that could likely kick my arse from here to Astapor."

She couldn't help it and laughed at that smug response. "Trust me, I could go a lot further than Astapor."

"I imagine you could." To her surprise, Serana hadn't seen Daario get closer to her. She only realized it after he had gently pulled her hood down and took a step back, admiring what laid before him. He understood she was dangerous, probably the most dangerous person in the entire city, next to some of Nakos' old friends, some of which had stayed in the slave cities to keep the peace he and Dany had created, but that apparently didn't stop him from trying to charm her. And much to her surprise, it was working.

That didn't stop her from looking away, though, feeling a mixture of things churning in her unbeating heart. "You don't know what you're asking for with me, Daario. You'd be better off…. with someone else."

"I like to live dangerously."

"Daario…"

"Serana."

Serana pulled his hands away before he could touch her face. "I can't. I still have the urges, don't get me wrong. Molag Bal couldn't take that away, but…"

"But from what I understand of what I read, you likely feel...less than a woman after what you had to endure." While his research hadn't gone into details regarding the ceremony itself that had made Serana what she was, Daario had gotten the gist of it well enough. Molag Bal's very definition among the Tamriel people pretty much spelled it out loud and clear.

Serana raised an eyebrow. "You were thorough in your research."

"I had a lot of time on my hands." Daario stared at her for a moment before walking back to his original position. "I understand, Lady Volkihar."

"No, you don't…. you really don't, but thank you for trying." She looked up then and a ghost of a smile pulled at her lips. "But I would be willing to try. I just… need time." That got the desired response as Daario smiled back and nodded his head in gratitude.

"Fair enough, but I should warn you, I'm not an extremely patient man. Gods only know how you could go centuries without having someone curl your toes."

Another brief burst of laughter escaped her at that. "Smartass," was the vampire's succinct but playful retort. Her laughter quickly died in her throat when she saw a small orange glow down below. She recognized it immediately, "Fire."

Daario followed her gaze and noticed the fire himself. Before he knew what was going on, Serana had disappeared in a swarm of bats, heading right for the conflagration in the distance. "Guess I'll alert the guards, then." He mused aloud, unfazed by her going on ahead as he ran down to the ground floor of the Great Pyramid, shouting the whole way for the Unsullied to get their asses in gear. Time was of the essence, something both of them understood in their respective ways.

By the time he reached the bottom of the steps, the alarm bells were already ringing and the city guards, consisting of Unsullied, Second Sons, and Tamrielics, were rushing out towards the fire, weapons in hand. It only took Daario a moment to see the likely culprits of the fire. By their clothes, they appeared to be former slave masters, and it seemed they had finally grown a spine and a pair of balls. They all wore golden harpy masks, and given the fact every Pyramid and alleyway had had at least one harpy somewhere in the slave cities before every harpy was tore down, declaring this place was owned by them, it wasn't hard to make the connection.

When they saw the guards, they immediately rushed at them, daggers in hand. Daario answered the challenge as his arakh appeared in his own and immediately cut down the first Harpy that made the mistake of rushing him. He hardly paused a moment as he continued his attack since there were still plenty more where the first masked man had came from.

Serana made quick work of the Harpies that rushed her, sending Ice Spikes into each of them in quick succession. Even with her supernatural reflexes though, the vampire was too slow when another Harpy got in behind her, dagger poised to drive through her back and out her chest. Before he got the chance though, he received a sword thrust through his neck, showering the undead princess in blood.

On the other end of the sword was Barristan Selmy. "Watch your back, my lady." The former Kingsguard Commander said, a just visible smile on his gray bearded face as he turned and easily disarmed a second before crushing the Harpy's throat with a precise elbow jab.

More city guards joined the fray, and they easily outnumbered the Harpies in the streets. Despite the odds, they fought to the last man, and the few they tried to take alive chose instead to throw themselves on the guards' blades, ensuring none of their number would talk. Even so, the Harpies had managed to kill or seriously injure their fair share of the guards before they were wiped out.

Barristan knelt over a dead Harpy and picked up the dagger. It wasn't a normal steel dagger, either. It was tinted yellow and curved at such an angle that it could slip between armor plates with startling ease. Seeing the enraged look in the pale woman's eyes, he stood up and held up the dagger. "I take it you know the metal."

"Elven," Serana hissed, "which means our Harpy friends have found themselves allies."

"Which begs the question," Daario began as he kicked a dead Harpy off of one of the Unsullied, who thanked him as he stood on shaky legs, clutching at a wound in his right side, "Why? And who are these mysterious friends of theirs?"

"I could take a few educated guesses, but I think I know who has decided to give these sodding ice brains a leg up on Meereen's guard force. The why is a bit more complicated." Serana sighed and did her best to ignore the scent of blood all around her. As well controlled as her urges were, they were always there, reminding her of what she was. "Let's get the wounded out of here, then I'll tell you what I can about what we might be up against. If I'm right, then Nakos and Dany need to know as soon as possible."

* * *

 **Middas, 26th of Sun's Dusk**

 **King's Landing**

Daenerys Targaryen sat in the royal chambers, trying to read, but she was too distracted. She and Nakos were doing their best to try to find a way to get Loras out of his imprisonment, but they wanted to find a way to do so without offending the Faith, and all the people of Westeros in the process. While Dany wished for a small show of force, Nakos said that patience was key. "We will wait until the inquest before we decide what to do," he had said.

She glanced over to Rhaelor, who had fallen asleep on the bed, his head in a book. She chuckled softly to herself. Rhaelor and his sister were as opposite as they could get. Of course, everyone had expected Rhaelor to be the fighter of the two children, since he was the boy. People were, of course, surprised that Nesaerys was the one who preferred to fight and Rhaelor preferred to read and study. Tyrion had taken a liking to the young boy as he saw a lot of himself in Rhaelor. They would spend hours together in the castle's library. Nakos didn't mind. Tyrion was the only Lannister that he fully trusted. "Maybe Rhaelor could learn a thing or two from Tyrion," Nakos had said.

A knock on the door interrupted Dany's thoughts and Lydia walked in. "Your Grace, Olenna Tyrell wishes to speak with you."

Dany stood to her feet and smoothed out her clothes. "Send her in, Lydia."

Lydia went back out and escorted Olenna in. "Your Grace," the Queen of Thorns bowed and greeted the Targaryen.

"Lady Olenna, this is a welcome surprise."

"I have travelled a long way. I left Highgarden as soon as I heard what had happened to my grandson."

"I can assure you Nakos and I are working to get Ser Loras back."

Olenna sat in the chair in front of the desk and scoffed. "It sure does not seem like it. All I see is you sitting here reading."

Dany sighed. "Nakos is careful. He wants to weigh his options and attend the inquest before doing anything. And I happen to agree with his decision. Though I initially wanted him to go into the prison with a show of force and break Loras out, what would that look like to the people of Westeros? Having a foreign king do such a thing inside the Great Sept. They may see that as a blight on their faith."

"So what _exactly_ is His Grace doing?"

"Waiting." Dany smiled a small smile. "Believe me, Lady Olenna, everything Nakos does is for a reason. He is not standing idly by. Acting rashly will only make things worse. Nakos is a tactician. Strategy is not limited to the battlefield, as you know. It also extends to politics. As much as Nakos hates to play the Game, there are a few still left in King's Landing who play it. So Nakos has no choice but to play along."

Olenna was silent for a moment before relenting with a smile. "Very well. At least there is some consolation knowing you and Nakos are _not_ behind this absurd incarceration of my grandson."

"I was as shocked as anyone when The Faith arrested Ser Loras. I have no love for these fanatics, and neither does Nakos. But we do plan to attend the inquest. From what I understand, it's a small hearing to determine whether the charges against Loras have merit, which I'm sure they don't. Soon, Loras will be freed."

Realizing that the topic would progress no further, the Queen of Thorns looked away from Dany, trying to think of another avenue. She found it when she spotted their youngest son. Olenna glanced over at the sleeping Rhaelor. For a moment, she said nothing. "He looks like his father," she said finally.

Dany followed Olenna's gaze. "He does." She replied softly, wondering where Olenna was going with this.

She didn't have to wonder for long. "And I'm sure you and His Grace will do anything to protect him."

"We are."

Olenna turned back to Dany. "I will do the same thing for Loras."

Dany politely put a hand up to stop the Queen of Thorns from speaking further. "There is no need for veiled threats, Lady Olenna. We are on the same side."

Olenna only huffed. "What veil? I am speaking the truth. If anything were to happen to him-"

" _Nothing_ is going to happen to your grandson," Dany said firmly.

Olenna took a long, hard look at the woman before her. When she did speak, the Queen of Thorns made it a point to drop her usual cynical undertones, for the most part, revealing the tired old woman she truly was. "I want to believe that, Your Grace, but I've been around too long to take mere words as gospel. But when you say it, well, I'm assured you at least believe it. Whether it actually happens or not though, only the gods can say."

* * *

 **Sundas, 30th of Sun's Dusk**

 **The Kingsroad**

Nesaerys had been on the road for fifteen days and according to Lord Robb Stark, they were over halfway to Winterfell. While the trip was pleasant, she could have gone without seeing another empty field. It was boring, even if the company she was with wasn't so dull. On the other hand, she'd been raised in King's Landing, there was always something exciting happening in the capital. From her father having many verbal spats with the Grand Maester, Dercin, to spending time with Tyrion Lannister and her bookworm of a brother Rhaelor, to training with the twins Vilkas and Farkas. She rarely had time to sit and twiddle her thumbs, and she preferred it that way. She often wondered what it would have been like had she been in King's Landing eleven years ago when her father first arrived, but from the tales her father had told her, it would have been no place for her. She knew she wasn't exactly the most patient person, but she found it infuriating to sit still without something to do to keep herself occupied. Doing nothing was not in her personality.

"Enjoy the peace while it lasts, Princess," Vilkas quipped as he and his brother rode beside her on horses of their own. "Too often I have seen it shattered."

"But I can't just sit around like _some_ people."

"Haha," Vilkas knew who she meant. "I know the feeling, I do. Farkas and I were never content to sit idly by either when there was something to be done, but we learned long ago to enjoy the solitude and quiet as well. Too often it ends for my liking, although my brother would say otherwise."

"Damn right I would." Farkas chuckled, although it was somewhat forced Nesy noted. "Give me a good fight any day."

"Now why can't my brother be like you two?" Nesy chuckled. "All he wants to do is sit and read with the dwarf. I like Tyrion, but he can get so boring sometimes."

"Not everyone can swing a sword, little Nesy, so they contribute in other ways." Farkas replied, surprising both her and Vilkas more than a little. "I might not have my brother's smarts, but even I understand the importance of keeping a sharp mind to go with my blade. Why do you think we work so well together?"

Nesy shrugged. "Because you're big, bad Companions?"

"Ha! Only half-true, pint size." Farkas chuckled when Nesy gave him a glare that would have seared the flesh from his bones, but he only grinned back in response. "Companions fight better than most milk drinkers, I'll give you that, but the best of us have always been part scholar on top of our impressive warrior skills."

"What he means is that where he has his blade, I have my mind. Together we cover our weaknesses, and share our strengths in common cause." Vilkas explained, clarifying his brother's less than clear comment.

"That sounds like something Tyrion would say." Despite the disdain in her voice, Nesy couldn't deny the fact they had a point.

"So," Vilkas decided to change the topic. "Have you talked to little Lord Eddard since we left King's Landing?" At Nesy's glare, he only shrugged. "Don't think I haven't noticed you looking at him."

"It's like watching two lovesick wolf cubs." Farkas chuckled, earning him another murderous glare from the young princess between them. "Yes, I noticed too, pint size. I think everyone in this caravan's noticed."

"You know I could have you turned into a throw rug, right?" Nesy grumbled, to which Vilkas had to bite his tongue and cough into his hand in an effort to contain his laughter at the image she had conjured for him.

"I'd love to see you try." Farkas laughed and ruffled Nesy's hair, clearly showing her he wasn't intimidated by her in the slightest. "Hold onto that warrior spirit, Nesy. It'll get ya a lot farther than you might think." The caravan in front of them began to slow down.

"Why are we stopping?" Nesaerys asked.

"We're stopping to make camp," Vilkas answered. "The sun is going down."

"I can see that."

"Patience, princess. We'll be on the road again come first light, I imagine."

"I hate waiting."

"We know." The twins said at the same time, earning them a muttered string of half-hearted curses from Nesaerys.

By the time they made camp, the sun was halfway down the horizon. Nesaerys sat in front of her tent, sitting by a fire. Vilkas and Farkas stood guard behind her, standing near the tent. Nesy had her ebony sword in her lap, turning it around impatiently.

"Lady Nesaerys," a familiar voice made her jump out of her seat, and dropped her sword into the grass at her feet.

"Lord Eddard," Nesy jumped to her feet and almost fell down again. She heard the twins stifle a chuckle and glared at them. That didn't stop them from chuckling, though. "Uh, what are you doing here?"

"We've never had the chance to talk since we left King's Landing." He walked forward and with a gesture of his hand, asked if he could sit down next to her. She nodded, sheathed her dropped blade as quickly as she could, and they sat down together. "How have you enjoyed the journey thus far?"

"It's been….uh-"

"Boring?" Vilkas supplied for her.

"Dull." Farkas chimed in, and chuckled when Nesy picked up a rock and chugged it at his head. He merely leaned back, letting it sail past, and smirked all the wider.

"You two aren't helping you know." She growled, her teeth practically grinding together at that point.

Eddard only smiled and shook his head. "I have to agree with them. It's… too quiet out here."

"What do you suggest?" She asked, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment at trying to brain Farkas right in front of young Lord Eddard, even if the oversized oaf had had it coming.

Eddard glanced at her sword. "I see you brought your sword with you."

Nesy looked down at the ebony sword before looking up into Eddard's face. "What about it?"

"Fancy a spar?" Eddard asked with a smirk as he handed her a practice sword from behind his back.

Nesaerys smirked with playful mischief etched onto her face. "You think you can stand up to me? I've trained with the best."

"So you say, my lady." Eddard replied and grinned playfully in return. "But I thought actions speak louder than words?"

Nesaerys stood to her feet at the challenge. "Oh, you are so getting it." Drawing her practice sword in one hand, she pushed Eddard off the bench with the other before running out to a small clearing nearby so they had room. Eddard gave chase, a broad smile all but encompassing his face.

"Ten septims says Eddard gets a black eye." Farkas stated once they were out of earshot.

"Ten septims says that Nesy gets knocked on her arse." Vilkas replied, grinning as he and his brother remembered their own childhoods. It had more or less went along the same lines, with both of them constantly fighting either each other or the Companions that had all but raised them, provided Vilkas hadn't had his nose in a book. Those had been good days.

Meanwhile, Nesaerys and Eddard traded swings and counter-swings. Though they were laughing all the while, it was obvious that each of them still wanted to win and beat the other. Nesy was on the offensive from the start, hammering away at Eddard's more defensive style. But he wasn't without his skill as he remained calm and composed, letting her lead their dance, as it were. Suddenly, when Nesy gave a final swing, he lunged forward and hit her legs from under her, sending her to the ground. Vilkas chuckled as Farkas hesitantly and slowly handed him the coins.

Eddard held out a hand to help Nesaerys up. "You fought well."

"But I lost," she huffed as she dusted herself off. "I hate losing."

"A loss doesn't mean defeat in every instance." Eddard replied softly as he looked towards the main camp, where his father was with his men, no doubt. He often said it was wise to get to know the names and faces of those that protect you and yours. His own father had taught him that. "It only becomes defeat if you don't pick yourself back up. My father taught me that."

"Wise words," Nesaerys replied.

"What about you?" Eddard asked, genuinely curious.

"What do you mean?" Nesy asked, confused as to what Eddard was trying to ask her.

"Your father must have given you advice about combat, and I'm always looking to improve." He replied and waited patiently for whatever Nesy might say.

Nesaerys thought for a moment. There was a lot of advice her father had given her over the years, and she had a hard time remembering everything her father had told her. But one thing stood out, at least in that moment. "Be patient. Watch your opponent. Pick up on their tendencies and use them as best you can in your favor."

"Looks like you still have some work to do then," Farkas quipped, overhearing them.

Ignoring the werewolf, Nesy rubbed the back of her neck and blushed. "Y-yeah, he might be right. I still have a lot to learn."

"But at least you're smart enough to admit it." Eddard replied and smiled warmly at the princess. "I've seen a few men in my father's guards that seem slow to pick up on that lesson. Greatjon Umber usually beats that out of them though." Nesy giggled at that, and Eddard couldn't help but chuckle as well. For a moment they stared into each other's eyes before Vilkas coughed loudly.

"You two lovebirds should get some rest," Vilkas said. "We're leaving at first light."

* * *

 **Turdas, 4th of Evening Star**

 **King's Landing**

The High Septon's room was not very large, but to Nakos, that seemed to be the reason the High Sparrow chose it, in order to make the prisoners he questioned feel closed in. Though the recent news from Meereen almost distracted him, he kept his mind on the present. The Tyrells needed his help now.

He, Dany, Cersei, Olenna, and Margaery were seated near the door while Loras sat across from them in a seat of his own. There was a scribe nearby, writing on a scroll while the High Sparrow circled around the seat, barefoot as usual. Despite his unassuming, comely appearance, here, there was an unmistakable air of something that made him stand out. Here, he was in command, and the High Sparrow knew it. "You are aware of the rumors concerning you and Renly?"

Loras only shrugged. "I don't pay attention to rumors."

"You were said to be despondent when he died. Witnesses said that you refused to leave his bedside, even as Stannis' army closed in."

Loras looked up, party in disgust, mostly in confusion. "He was my _friend_. He was my _king_."

The High Sparrow folded his arms. "Wasn't Joffrey your king? He was anointed by the seven, not Renly."

Loras made himself despondent. "I was wrong to support Renly's claim. I know that. But I was forgiven by Joffrey. I fought for him at the Battle of the Blackwater."

Nakos was tempted to say something unsavory about Joffrey, but thought better of it. It would only make the situation worse. But he was amused to see that Dany was thinking the same thing from the hard look on her beautiful face.

The High Sparrow huffed. "But you were wearing Renly's armor."

"Why does it matter what I wore?"

The High Sparrow did not answer the question, but asked one of his own. "Do you deny all of the charges against you? Fornication, buggery, blasphemy."

"Of _course_ I deny them."

"You never lay with Renly Baratheon."

"Never." It was a lie, of course, but given the situation, no one that knew the truth blamed him for it. This was a witch hunt, nothing more.

"Nor any other man?" The High Sparrow asked.

Loras shook his head. "Never," he lied again.

The High Sparrow was silent for a moment before he nodded. "That will be all, Ser Loras."

Loras stood and walked back to his seat, next to Olenna.

"Well, I think that's quite enough of that." Olenna said, and started to stand to her feet.

"I agree," Nakos said. "You've heard it from the man himself, High Sparrow. He denies it."

"But we've only just begun, Your Grace." The High Sparrow said, and let the faintest of smiles flick across his face before he turned towards Margaery next. "The Faith calls Lady Margaery Tyrell forward."

Margaery's eyes went up in surprise. "You call _me_ forward?"

"Yes. We have some questions for you."

She exchanged glances with her brother, grandmother, Dany, and Nakos before standing and walking to the seat her brother was sitting in. Despite her surprise at being asked to the 'bench', as it were, she maintained her composure and remained perfectly calm. She had been through worse than this.

The High Sparrow stood in front of the Tyrell woman. "How do you respond to these charges against your brother?"

"They are lies," she said quickly.

"All of them?"

"All of them."

The High Sparrow walked towards the scribe. "Lady Margaery, in the presence of the gods, do you swear that your brother is innocent of these charges against him, to the best of your knowledge?

"Yes, I swear it." Margaery replied firmly, calmly, even though she knew better. She had walked in on Loras at least once in the past, and the rumors surrounding her and Renly were also true. She doubted the Sparrow could prove anything, however.

Again, the High Sparrow was silent for a moment. "Thank you, my lady."

As Margaery walked back to her seat, Nakos stood. "Are we done, High Sparrow?

"I'm afraid not your Grace. The Faith calls Nakos Nalldiir forward."

"I might be the king, but I am also a man." It was the closest to acceptance of this farce he'd ever come.

The High Sparrow nodded. "You are. And according to Law of the Seven, neither kings nor queens are exempt from testimony at a holy inquest."

Nakos glanced at Dany, then to Cersei, before standing and slowly walking to the seat. He had little to hide, so he saw no point in resisting the High Sparrow's questioning.

"Your Grace. How do _you_ respond to these charges?" The High Sparrow asked, calmly as ever.

"They are lies," Nakos lied, convincingly for anyone else, but a little voice in the back of his head said it wouldn't be so easy to talk his way out of this one. "I don't think I can say anything else you haven't heard already."

"Did you know that Loras had a reputation of fornication?"

"I did not. But if it his choice, I would see no reason to stop him unless it impeded in his duties. Which, so far, it hasn't."

"Obviously, you are ignorant of our laws." the High Sparrow glanced at the Tyrells. "Didn't the Tyrells tell you of Loras' reputation?"

"I seem to recall them asking me for him to serve in the Royal Guard, but that was all. But I also seem to remember us having this conversation before, High Sparrow. The laws of men are _not_ the laws of the gods." Nakos reminded him, making it clear his patience was running thin with this whole affair.

The High Sparrow stared hard at Nakos before offering a small smile. Nakos didn't like it. "Thank you, Your Grace."

Before Nakos could get to his seat, he heard a door open and turned to see a young man walking in and taking the seat. Nakos did not recognize him, but from the look on Loras' face, _he_ did and it wasn't good. And so did Margaery, if her slightly widened eyes were any indication. Nakos saw the thin smile on Cersei's face, but pretended not to notice. Inwardly though, he was beating his head against a wall for not having seen this trap sooner. Cersei had played them, he was sure of it now.

The High Sparrow stood in front of the man. "Do you know this man?" Here, he pointed to Loras.

The man smirked. "Yes, very well. He is Ser Loras Tyrell, heir to Highgarden."

"How did you come to meet?"

"I squired for him. He took a liking to me. He summoned me to his chamber the first day we met."

The High Sparrow turned around and gave Nakos a knowing glance. "And what occurred in his chamber?"

The man smirked as well. "We engaged in… _intimate_ relations."

"So, you _laid_ with him?"

The man nodded. "That night and _many_ others."

Loras leaned forward, his face twisted in anger. "Liar! He's a liar!" Nakos put a hand to calm him down, but said nothing at first.

The High Sparrow only gave Loras a sideways glance. "Is there anyone else who can support your claim?"

"Yes, yes, Lady Margaery. She walked in on us once not long ago. She didn't seem surprised."

Nakos glanced at Margaery, who could only stare dumbfounded. When she looked at Nakos, he could see in her eyes that the man was telling the truth, but there was nothing they could do. Still, he made a mental note to talk to her about this the first chance he had. It would have been nice to know about this man beforehand, at the very least, to avoid this exact situation.

"This testimony is an insult to a great house," Cersei exclaimed, but Nakos could easily tell her tone was fake. "Why should The Faith or anyone else here take the word of a squire over the heir to Highgarden?"

"Exactly," Dany spoke up. "What proof does he have?" The less than subtle glare she threw Cersei's way said she too was onto the Lannister.

The man stared right at Dany. "He has a birthmark, Your Grace. Quite high on his thigh, wine-colored, and roughly the shape of Dorne."

Loras jumped at Olyvar, but Nakos restrained him. "No, Ser Loras."

Margaery and Olenna get up to leave but several members of the Faith Militant blocked their way.

"Liar!" Loras yelled, trying to break away from Nakos' grip.

"Calm down, Ser Loras," Nakos said. It was then he noticed that several members of the Faith Militant had surrounded him. "If you plan to arrest me, I'd rethink that course of action."

"We're not going to arrest you, Your Grace. But The Faith is satisfied that there is enough evidence to bring a formal trial for Ser Loras... and Lady Margaery."

Margaery turned on her heels immediately upon hearing that. "What?"

"Bearing false witness before the gods is as grave a sin as any. Take her."

The Faith Militant grabbed her and carried her out of the room before Nakos could respond. This had been orchestrated from the start.

"And what about His Grace?" Cersei asked the High Sparrow.

"We have no proof that Nakos knew of Loras' reputation. The Faith has no reason to hold him… yet." Nakos could tell that both he and Cersei were disappointed. "You may leave, Your Grace."

"Not without the Tyrells." Nakos stated, making his tone clear that he would accept nothing less but acquiesce on the Sparrow's part.

"Then you will be waiting a long time. If you try to stop us..." The threat hung in the air, seemingly innocent in its delivery, but it was all too clear that the High Sparrow was willing to harm them if he had to prove his point.

Nakos wanted to save them. And he could have. He could Shout and slow time down, cut down all the Faith Militant with ethereal blades, and rescue the Tyrells. But attacking the Faith Militant would be a rash decision. An idea came to mind, though, and he had to suppress a smile. He knew exactly what to do. It would take time, though. But that was better than Shouting the High Sparrow and the Faith Militant down in cold blood as much as he wanted to. He watched as Loras and Margaery were dragged away, yelling for him. He gave them a wink, only seen by them... a wink they understood at once. They understood he was not going to leave them to rot in the cells. As Nakos and Dany turned to leave, he glared at Cersei. Cersei only smiled back.

"You will pay for this treachery, Lady Cersei," Nakos threatened in a whisper, and only got a shrug from Cersei.

"What are you doing, Your Grace?!" Olenna asked once they left the room. "Why didn't you do anything?!"

Nakos turned on his heels and glared at Olenna, his eyes ablaze with a righteous fury. Even Olenna took a step back at his glare. "Don't think for a moment my lack of action is from cowardice, Lady Tyrell," he said firmly. "I plan to end this very soon. You will have your grandchildren back."

* * *

 **Fredas, 5th of Evening Star**

 **Braavos, Dark Brotherhood safehouse**

"This could be a problem." Arya grumbled as she and her fellow thieves and assassins stood in their temporary safehouse. The House of Black and White was still available to them, but for this, she had wanted a place closer to their targets, so she had set up quarters for her team closer to the places they had needed to hit. And now, she and the others were reading over what they had been able to find on the Thalmor's ships a few days ago. "If it's even true, and for all we know it was planted so we would find it."

"That wouldn't surprise me with the Thalmor, princess." Jax replied. "They're clever bastards, always feeding their opponents false information if they can. Fueling conflicts between nations to gain an advantage. The list goes on."

"The ships were under heavy guard, Jax." Arya retorted.

Jax shrugged. "Your point? All those pretty notes could still be false and we'd never know, princess."

Morgen was far less close minded about what they had discovered as she picked up one of the more legible of the documents. "I think it's worth investigating.

Arya nodded. "Get a bird out to Varys and Brynjolf, they need to know what we're chasing regardless, even if it turns out to be a false lead."

"Or a trap." Jax muttered.

"And what's the easiest way to find out if it is a trap?" Cassius asked.

"Spring the trap." Arya answered as she rubbed at her chin and leaned back in her chair with a sigh. "And I thought dodging Lannister soldiers was a pain in my arse."

"Lannister soldiers are child's play compared to the Thalmor," Kirsten said with a sigh. "Personally, I envied your childhood, even if it was Oblivion for you at the time, Arya. I'd have preferred the Lannisters over the golden knife-ears when I was your age."

"When was that? During the Oblivion Crisis, Kirsten?" Jax asked, and chuckled when she shot him a rude gesture in response.

"Point being," Kirsten continued, "the Dominion, and their leaders, the Thalmor, make the Lannisters look like rank amateurs."

"And they're our enemy now." Arya replied, meaning the Thalmor in general. "And from what I can tell…" Her voice trailed off as she read the papers in front of her.

"What is it?" Jax asked, not liking the expression on her face. He liked it less when she started putting the papers on the desk, rearranging them like an intricate puzzle. When she finished, his face turned white as a sheet. "Shit." It was a map of Westeros, complete with written plans on possible locations to attack or Houses to align with. No doubt those alliances would be temporary since the Thalmor were supremacists to the last. Humans were especially inferior in their eyes, so any alliance made would then be broken once the Thalmor had gotten what they wanted.

Other documents included the fleet's cargo manifests, crew logs, and journals. The cargo logs didn't detail much in the way of what was inside, merely labelling more than half the hold's contents as 'Research Materials', but the crew report logs and the journals went into more details, especially one labeled as 'Research Journal 1-1A FC detachment.'

Arya flipped through the pages, and diagrams of things that didn't make any sense to her. The technical details were beyond anything she had ever seen. Metal monstrosities powered by steam and… soul gems, somehow. Constant references to beings called 'Dwemer', and other terms that simply didn't make sense. She then started to read through the progress pages, written by Ancano.

 _These past few weeks have been only marginally fruitful in terms of the project. Having lost the Eye to the Daedra was a tremendous setback to the project, and now we are forced to scour the planet in search for another compatible source of energy. But, since the death of Maeros, we have made some headway in acquiring the locations we need to excavate. With the distraction to throw off any unwanted visitors, we can proceed to the closest known location of arcane lore in Essos: the ruins of Old Valyria. The place is avoided by the local populations like it is cursed, and that makes it easy enough to get in and avoid prying eyes._ _The only drawback is the 'Stone Men' that call it home, but they can be easily disposed of. And their sickness? Easily cured by our superior magics should they touch one of us._

 _If we do not find what we seek in the ruins of the old Dragonlords domain, our next destination is Asshai, then the Shadowlands. The myths and legends surrounding these dark lands are rife all throughout Essos, and common knowledge is usually a strong indicator of something truly formidable. Perhaps we should consider paying the place a visit irrespective of what we find in Old Valyria? A question for my superiors. Once the actual research begins, I will finally have something worthwhile to do rather than play this trivial political game with these human halfwits. My talents are better served elsewhere, away from these uncivilized brutes that play at sentience._

"What an asshole." Jax said once Arya had finished reading the entry aloud to the rest of them.

"I can't help it if I have such a strong opinion of your pestilence of a species." They all jumped to their feet when Ancano stepped out of the shadows, weapons drawn, but a swift hand gesture had a bolt of lightning sweeping over the room, knocking them to the ground. "Down, mongrels." Taking the book off of the desk, where Arya had dropped it after being tossed from her chair, Ancano clicked his tongue in disapproval as he wiped at it with the sleeve to his robe. "To think I allowed you to profane my research notes with your filthy hands just so I could find your rat's nest. But it seems it paid off. Funny how overconfidence can blind even the cleverest of rats. You never thought to check for a locator spell, did you?" The assassins could not respond before Ancano called to his entourage. "Take them. It's time to see how deep this rat's nest goes. Make sure they are comfortable, and burn this hovel to the ground once we're gone. Leave no trace of their survival. I'm sure we can leave a convincing false trail with the number of homeless plaguing this filth ridden city."

Thalmor soldiers, dressed in their full elven and glass armor uniforms, stepped from the shadows and dragged the thieves and assassins out even as more dragged some dead bodies from the street into the safehouse, their throats freshly slit, and placed them around the hovel.

Once everything was in place, and the Thalmor left the safehouse, Ancano spun on his heel and fired a small fireball spell into the open door. When the spell struck the interior however, it exploded violently, blowing the open door off its hinges, and shattered glass windows everywhere within twenty feet of the structure. The flames caught, and began to spread quickly, swallowing the house whole.

Turning to Arya and her helpless team, Ancano smiled when he saw the wolf princess was still conscious. "You're tougher than you appear, little girl. I'll be sure to fix that before our time together is done."


	5. The Game is Played

_**Author's Notes:**_ _Thank to_ _ **Vergil1989**_ _, who helped me and_ _ **DarkStorm**_ _with this chapter. We've included a small easter egg to Vergil's story. Kudos to those who pick it up!_

 _Also, I want to include a_ _ **trigger warning**_ _in this first scene of the chapter. Some of the dialogue and actions in this first scene may bother some readers and so to be safe, I wanted to warn all y'all before hand._

* * *

 **Morndas, 8th of Evening Star**

 **Braavos**

The sound of a door opening snapped Arya out of her sleep. Her first instinct was to panic, but she remembered her training and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. Despite the situation she was in, Arya couldn't help but chuckle to herself since she had come quite a long way from the scared little girl she'd been to who she was now. She was still scared perhaps, but it didn't cripple her. She'd been through too much to be frightened so easily anymore. There was barely any light in the large cell, save for the small amount of light that had shone in when the door was opened, and it didn't last long. But it lasted long enough for Arya to see where she was.

It was a large circular room and her fellow thieves and assassins were chained by their wrists up against the wall. They had been tortured for the past few days by Thalmor, and they wanted to know who they were and why they were in Braavos. Of course, none of them had said anything, enduring the torture. Arya had marks and wounds all over her body, from fire, electricity, ice, and slices and cuts from daggers, which were no doubt coated in poison. Not enough poison to kill, but enough to incapacitate her and cause her great pain.

The firepit that sat in the middle of the room was suddenly lit with a fireball and two Thalmor stood there with a smirk on both of their faces. One of them was wearing a long robe and had an elven dagger in his hand, which seemed to be enchanted with fire. The other was sporting elven armor and had an elven mace in one hand and Needle in his belt.

"Well, well," the one with the mace said. "Look who's up." He gave an evil laugh. "Ready to go again, bitch?"

Arya only smirked. "Fuck you." The elf shrugged and taking the mace in his hand brought it with force into her chest, eliciting a coughing fit from Arya. She spat onto the ground, and wasn't surprised to see blood mixed with spit. "That all you got?"

"You're a fighter, I'll give you that," the elf with the dagger said. "But soon your body will give out, and we'll no longer have use of you. We would kill you, but you're a Stark. Maybe the whorehouses will be a fit once we're done here."

"Is that supposed to scare me? I've already seen the worst Tamriel has to offer, and you're rather lacking by comparison, knife-ear." Arya spat out, and groaned when the mace fell on her stomach this time, but she merely smirked up at the two elves. "I almost felt that one. A little to the left next time, would you?"

"This is pointless." The mace wielder growled.

"Not necessarily," the other elf said. He slowly walked over to Jax and slapped him across the face a few times. "Rise and shine."

Jax jerked awake and when he saw who was in front of him, he sighed. "Oh great, I was hoping this was a bad dream. Guess not. Be a friend and eviscerate yourselves for us? That'd be great, thanks."

The elf with the dagger smiled. "Charming, to the last." Not two seconds later, he jammed the blade into Jax's torso and twisted viciously.

"NOO!" Arya screamed, as if she'd been the one stabbed instead.

The elf only smirked evilly and healed Jax, leaving a smoldering burn scar behind. Jax himself was panting, covered in sweat and his face wet with tears from the sheer agony from the assault. "Next time I won't heal him. Perhaps you won't be so hesitant to tell us what we wish to know if your friends lives are on the line?"

Arya glared into the smug elf's face, and her voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "Perhaps it'll be me on the other end of that dagger when we get out of here knife-ear?"

"Tell you what, if you can get out of those chains and disarm me, I might even let you try to kill me. Until then, know your place, mongrel." The elf with the dagger walked to the next person: Camaron. "Maybe this one will be more cooperative." He yanked on the Redguard's hair and pulled his head back, placing the dagger at his throat. "What say you, human scum?"

"I say you should fuck yourself bloody with that knife." Camaron hissed, and smirked even as the blade nicked his throat, a small cloud of smoke appearing from where the enchanted weapon touched his skin. "I'm at peace with my gods, can you say the same?!"

"You admit to keeping to the false god Talos, then?" The elf chuckled once. "I shouldn't be surprised. Humans are so foolishly stubborn, like skeevers."

"This skeever still has bite to him." Cameron retorted.

"Leave him, Camdor." The elf with the mace walked up and stopped in front of Morgen, who was staring up at him defiantly. "Maybe this one will be more… willing."

"Try it." She dared him, her voice low and sounding more menacing than she currently appeared, her hands chained to a wall like the rest. "I've been with bigger men than you, goldie. I doubt you could get it up long enough to be more than a nuisance."

The elf didn't reply right away, but simply ran his hand through her brown hair. She tried to pull away and ram her head into the elf's face, but he was just out of reach and merely smirked at her attempt.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" Kirsten yelled.

"Don't worry," the elf replied without taking his eyes off of Morgen. "You'll be next."

"You touch her and you'll have to deal with me," Cassius snapped.

"Looks like you found a weakness after all, Darius." Camdor chuckled as he crossed his arms and grinned wickedly at the collection of thieves and assassins. "You pathetic thieves I can understand having feelings for your fellows, but I thought the Dark Brotherhood were inhuman monsters and conscienceless killers? Who would have thought the stories were… grossly exaggerated?"

"It takes one to know one," Jax chuckled. "If we assassins are inhuman monsters and killers, what does that make _you_? Dogs?"

"Rabid dogs would be a compliment, Jax." Arya chimed in, drawing Darius' attention away from Morgen.

"Says the Stark whore." The elf growled back.

"Oh, sorry. I think I found a weakness too." Arya expected him to attack her next, but she was pleased to see Camdor hold the angry Thalmor back with a hand on his upper arm. "What's the matter? I thought you wanted to hurt us? All I did was give him incentive. Not that he needed much to begin with, being a rabid dog and all."

Camdor continued to hold his friend back. "It's not worth it. Ancano wants them alive… for now." He paused and looked them over. "But he didn't say undamaged." Darius' eyes lit up as Camdor handed the dagger over and nodded to Arya's sword hand. "I think we need to send a message of our own to the false King, Nakos and his Targaryen whore."

"Gladly." Darius walked slowly towards Arya, twirling the dagger in his hands. "You won't need this anymore." He chuckled darkly as he brought the enchanted blade down on Arya's thumb. She valiantly stifled the scream that wanted to escape as he methodically drew the blade back and forth across her finger, until he hit bone before jerking the knife clean through. Catching the severed finger, he nodded his approval as the wound closed shut from the fire enchantment in his borrowed dagger, ensuring it'd hurt for hours more. For a moment he said nothing, but only stared evilly into her eyes, relishing in her pained expressions. "No snappy comebacks now, wolf bitch?"

Arya glared at him. "Just this." She took a moment to collect her thoughts and fight past the pain. The Thalmor, thinking she was too weak to speak above a whisper, leaned in. When he did, Arya moved, faster than she herself expected, and pushed off the wall with her feet as best she could and quickly wrapped her legs around his head. With a twist of her waist, she broke his neck.

Camdor, stunned at the execution of his companion, was tripped by Camaron before he could take another step forward. Camaron and Morgen wasted no time in stomping their feet into anywhere they could reach as hard as they could. One lucky strike found his windpipe, and he quickly died from lack of air.

"Okay, now that they're dead, how in Oblivion are we to get out?" Jax asked.

"Give me a minute!" Arya hissed as she reached out with her toes as best she could and found the elf's keyring. It took a few moments, but eventually she was able to pull it loose and was able to bring the keys up to her hands.

Jax chuckled. "Good to see you're flexible, princess."

"Really?" Cameron groaned. "You're still flirting with her _now_?"

Jax shrugged. "Not like I have anything better to do at the moment while we're just hanging here."

"Could you all shut up for two seconds? This isn't as easy as it looks." Arya grumbled as she extended her leg backwards towards her hands. Eventually, she was able to get the keys in her hands and free herself. She immediately went to Darius' dead body and retrieved her thumb. With any luck, she could find a healer who could reattach it. She also took Needle from Darius' belt. "You won't be needing this anymore." She muttered darkly before standing to her feet, albeit slowly as a wave of dizziness hit her. Shaking it off for the moment, she finally went to Jax and began to undo his shackles.

"Of course, you'd come to me first," Jax winked.

Arya groaned. "If I kiss you, will you shut up?"

"Kiss me? No. That'd only encourage me." Even as the words left his mouth, Jax saw Arya begin to stumble and immediately reached out to steady her before she fell to the stone floor of the cell. "Easy, Arya. I got the others."

More than a little surprised he had called her by her actual name in recent memory, she didn't resist him as Jax gently lowered her to the wall and got her sat down before moving to free the others. Once they were all free, Cameron and Morgen picked up the dagger and mace from the dead elves. Arya sighed as whatever strength she had found to kill Darius had since left her, forcing Jax and Cassius to support her between them. Out of all of them, she had been the focus of the Thalmors' interrogation, which was expected since she was the leader of this particular group. Whether or not they had known that or had just singled her out because she was a Stark, she neither knew nor really cared at that moment. It didn't matter regardless, only that they got out did.

"Let's try and get out of here before they discover we're free, shall we?" Arya groaned.

"You heard her. Cameron, Morgen, try not to get us killed, eh?" Jax said, and managed a weak smirk before looking at Arya. "Not the exact situation where I'd have loved to get my hands on you, princess."

"Get us out of here alive and I might reconsider castrating you," She teased darkly. Jax only smirked a little wider in response as they started forward.

Cameron and Morgen went forward as silently as they could, clearing the way and killing any unsuspecting Thalmor, hiding the bodies so as not to raise the alarm. Grabbing their weapons, it wasn't long before the rest of the group had at least one dagger between them, although they all silently agreed that they'd have preferred to have their own gear back. But with no way of knowing where it was being stored, it was too much of a risk to try and find it at the moment. They were lucky to have gotten out of that cell at all.

"How exactly are we going to get out of here?" Kirsten whispered, obviously nervous and tired from their days of torture.

"Look for an exit?" Cassius suggested flatly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. We're all refreshed by your wisdom." Jax rolled his eyes and shook his head before pulling Arya's arm higher up across his back when it started to slip from his grasp.

Camaron winked. "It was rather eloquent, wasn't it?"

"You asked for advice and I gave it." Cassius grunted back.

"Allow me." Morgen closed her eyes and focused for a moment before raising her hand. A small, blue orb of light coalesced in her open palm and shot away, leaving a trail of just visible particles behind. "There. Let's hope it doesn't lead us into a guard patrol."

"You couldn't make it easy." Jax groaned as Arya again began to lose her footing. Cassius said nothing as he did his best to help Jax in keeping the young Stark upright and mobile.

"It took all I had just to do that much. Be glad it worked at all. It wouldn't surprise me if the Thalmor bastards used magicka-sapping poisons on us on top of everything else."

"Well, let's keep moving." Jax said, taking charge for the moment, much to Arya's silent relief and gratitude. "The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can leave this city." The others nodded and let the matter drop, just glad they had a general direction now as they followed Morgen's clairvoyance spell trail. They were in the clear for the moment, but their sense of calm was soon replaced with nervousness once they passed by what appeared to be a guard station. Thankfully, it seemed it was largely empty, with only two Thalmor just sitting down for a late meal. A silent nod was passed from Arya to the two front runners, who immediately went into the room to deal with the threat before them.

Cameron shook his head in disapproval at their sloppiness before he brought his mace down on the right elf's head about the same time Morgen sliced open the left man's throat. Both were dead, their heads falling into their trays of food. "Stupid elves." Cameron grunted aloud. He was just about to turn and nod for the others to move up, but he stopped and looked down. The shaft of a gold colored arrow was sticking out of his chest. "Huh." Was all he said before he fell to the floor.

Morgen reacted instinctively and threw her dagger at the third Thalmor that had come out of the door on the other end of the room, striking the archer in the center of his forehead. She knelt down next to Cameron and sighed when she checked for any signs of life, only to turn up empty handed. She looked over to Jax and Arya and shook her head.

"Shit," Jax whispered harshly. "We have to move, now."

"Not.. yet," Arya replied softly. "Look around. There may be something we can use here. Healing potions. Information.….I don't care at this point. We didn't...get captured and tortured...only to escape empty handed."

"Are you sure?" Cassius asked, concerned for the rest of the team, but mostly her, same as Jax.

Arya only glared at him. "Yes."

Jax hesitated for a moment before nodding to Cassius. "I got her."

Cassius helped Arya down onto a seat before going to search with the others. They hid the bodies first before searching the rest of the room.

Jax meanwhile sat down next to her, more to keep an eye on her than anything. "You alright?" When she held up her mutilated hand, he held up his own and nodded while smiling sheepishly. "Right, sorry. Stupid question."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Arya replied, a weak, tired smile pulling at her bloodied lips.

Jax chuckled as he gently took her mutilated hands in his left hand. Taking the thumb and placing it against what remained of her thumb, he hovered his right hand over hers. A golden light emanated from his right hand and he began to heal it. It took a few moments, but soon her hand was whole.

She looked wide-eyed at him. "You never told me you could heal."

"I never told you I didn't," he replied with a smirk. "You assumed I didn't." He looked towards their fallen friend and sighed. "Not that it did Cameron any good."

"We'll avenge him, Jax." Arya stated and put her hand on his shoulder. "It's the least we can do after I screwed up and got us into this mess in the first place. I was in charge, I should have been smarter, realized that bastard could track us down. A mistake I won't be making twice."

"It's not your fault, princess," Jax gently placed his hand on her cheek. "The Thalmor are smart. You could have never known that book had a spell on it. We didn't think about it either, and we came from the same world they did, more or less. One of us should have caught it and we didn't, either." It wasn't much of a reassurance, but it had the desired effect as Arya smiled and leaned against Jax's shoulder, too tired to argue the point further.

Cassius remained silent but he nodded his head in approval from a nearby stack of crates he'd been looking through. "Let's just hope we can warn Nakos about what might be coming. I'll call that a victory after this debacle. Vengeance can wait."

"Agreed, Cass." Jax whispered, letting Arya rest for as long as she was able while they waited for the others to scout ahead or find anything they could use.

"Jax. Arya." Kirsten jogged up to them, holding a backpack full of potions. He wasted no time in placing the pack on the table.

Jax quickly dug inside and brought out a healing potion. "Arya, here. Drink."

Arya took the potion, almost dropped it, but was able to down it in a single breath. She made a face at the foul taste but almost immediately started to feel better. She was still sore, but that was a minor complaint now as she downed another healing potion and a stamina potion before giving the rest to Jax and Cassius to hand out to the rest of the group. "You need them more than me at this point."

Jax was about to argue, but decided against it and drank down both a healing and stamina potion when Arya started to glare disapprovingly at him. "Bleh, hate those things, but at least they're handy. Maybe it's because they were Thalmor made that makes them taste like shit?"

"Complain about it, later." Cassius grunted as he downed his own before walking back to the table. "Did you find anything else while you were out there, Kirsten?"

"I was more worried about getting you back on your feet." Kirsten said after doing the same as the others. Shaking her head at the taste, she threw the empty bottles into a nearby corner.

"It's okay. You did good." Arya stated and nodded in approval. "As soon as Morgen gets back, we should be strong enough to escape."

It didn't take long for Morgen to come back, with papers in hand. "I found these."

"They don't have tracking spells on them, do they?" Jax quipped. "I don't want Princess to go through this again."

Morgen raised an eyebrow but said nothing about their shared captivity, instead doing a quick scan of the papers she'd found and could find nothing resembling any unwanted surprises. "They're clean, as far as I can tell."

"So what does it say?" Arya asked, her voice sounding stronger already.

"Braavos isn't the only place the Thalmor have taken root," Morgen placed the letters on the table in front of them. "They're in Meereen and Westeros as well."

"So they're causing trouble all over the world," Arya groaned. "Great. Looks like those plans we found are coming true after all."

Jax held up a finger to silence them. When they were all quiet, they heard footsteps heading their way. "We should move. Now."

They all disappeared into the shadows just before a Thalmor patrol rounded the corner. Much to their dismay, the elves stopped and stared at the trays of scattered food and the blood that was decorating the table currently. With a simple hand gesture, the six-man group spread out, intent on finding any trace of them no doubt. "Shit." Arya cursed, and ducked down a little lower when one of them got too close to her hiding spot for comfort.

Just as he started to look past the stack of barrels she had hidden behind, Cassius stood to his feet and threw his dagger all in one fluid movement before running out of the guard station. While his weapon missed, it had gotten their attention. "What is he doing?!" Morgen whispered with a just audible curse when four of the Thalmor ran after him.

"Giving us a chance." Kirsten replied quietly before she vaulted over the boxes in front of them, sword in hand. Before the closer of the two Thalmor could react, she had impaled one elf through his throat before rolling over his falling body and lashing out with her foot. He took the boot to the face and fell to the floor, where Arya was waiting, Needle in hand.

"Boo," she smirked before driving the point of Needle through his throat.

Morgen once again cast the Clairvoyance spell and once they knew the direction they had to go, they snuck through the shadows again. While they wanted to save Cassius's life, he had given them an opening, and his sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. To make it worse, they heard a blood-curdling scream from the dungeon tunnels where Cassius had ran off into. It was impossible to tell if it had been their friend or one of the Thalmor, but they didn't turn back to find out. They had lost two of their friends already and if they stayed longer, they would lose more.

"Feel that?" Arya asked as a small breeze hit her in the face. "We're nearing the surface. The air's becoming less stale." She'd have to thank Nakos for those early lessons… that's if she survived.

"I forgot the Listener trained you." Kirsten nodded, and patted the young Stark on the shoulder as they continued forward, nerves and bodies tense and ready for the slightest sign of Thalmor related trouble.

What they hadn't expected was other prisoners, a mistake on their part when a burly arm reached through a cell door window and tried to grab Kirsten by the back of her throat. "'Get me out of here!"

She spun away and jammed her dagger through a man's hand, earning her a curse and a yelp of pain for her trouble. Unfortunately the noise echoed down the dark passageway. It didn't take long for several Thalmor to rush down the hallway… on both sides. "Oblivion take you all!" She roared, and pulled a second dagger she'd been able to salvage from the dead guards behind them while the rest of the group readied themselves for battle.

The leader pointed at them while holding back the guards behind him with an outstretched hand. "Remember! Ancano wants them alive... if possible." The moment he dropped his hand though, the heavily armored Thalmor smirked as the others ran ahead to carry out his command. This wouldn't take long, or that's what Arya read on his face until she couldn't see him any longer.

He was half right, it wouldn't take long, but it wouldn't end in their favor. Needle flashed from its sheath as she went into the Water Dance, having long since mastered the Braavosi style of fencing. Quick as a snake, Needle found a weak point between armored plates and dove into the lead man's ribs just under his armpit before she spun around him and drove the slender blade's point into the second's neck. Spinning the other way, she ducked an overhand strike from the third and countered in one fluid movement, stabbing him in the back where he fell in an undignified heap on his dead fellows. By this point, the guard captain's smirk had disappeared as the fourth sent Arya's way was subsequently dealt with in rapid succession. And a quick glance over her shoulder revealed that the rest of his men had been dealt with just as rapidly.

"Such bravado from a bunch of humans when dealing with foot soldiers. Let's see how you deal with the School of Destruction." Pushing the guard captain back before he could charge into the killing field next, a Thalmor Wizard, dressed in similar robes as Ancano, gracefully stepped into the light of the room from the stairwell. The female Altmer's smirk was vicious, and darkened by the hood she wore. The cloak billowed out behind her in the breeze from the surface so tantalizingly close. The wizard held a handful of lightning in her left hand, and her right held a Justiciar Saber. "Come at me, if you dare."

"Well, let's not keep the lady waiting." Jax smirked and rushed forward. The wizard sent a bolt his way, but he easily dodged it and disappeared into the shadows. His friends followed suit, rushing at her, but disappearing into the shadows on either side of the hallway. The wizard and the captain looked to and fro, for any sign of them. Suddenly, a shadow ran past the captain, and he felt a sharp pain in his leg. He let out a scream of pain and when the captain turned to see what had happened, his throat was opened from ear to ear.

The wizard however only rolled her eyes and grabbed the first cloaked figure that dared approach her. When Morgen looked into the Thalmor's eyes, she could see they were alight with magica. Life Detect spell. "You didn't think I would allow myself to be caught out by a bunch of sneaking skeever rats like you, did you?" Morgen let out a gasp of surprise before she let out an agonized scream, lightning coursing through her from head to foot.

"Morgen!" Kirsten shouted and could only watch, horrified as Morgen was dropped to the ground, lifeless and charred to the bone.

The wizard only laughed. "Too bad, so sad." She chortled and stepped to the side just as Kirsten tried to rush her, blade first. The wizard countered with an elbow jab to her throat before spinning on her heel, her sabre finding its mark in the woman's chest. "Pathetic."

"You bitch!" Jax and Arya shouted as they ran in, Needle finding its mark between her eyes while Jax's sword found a new home in the wizard's stomach. The Altmer's eyes glowed once before going dead.

"Arya," Jax pulled her up by the arms when she knelt by Kirsten and Morgen's dead bodies. "We have to go. There's going to be more coming."

Arya mumbled. "They relied on me….and I got them killed."

"You can grieve once we're gone." Jax said and dragged her up so she was on her feet. "But this will have been for nothing if we end up dead or caught again." Arya could only nod, but it was enough for Jax as he squeezed her hand over Needle's hilt. "Focus on getting out."

"R-right." After regaining her composure, Arya started down the hallway. "We should get back to the House of Black and White. They can inform Nakos of what we found while we get to Meereen."

"Then let's go, princess."

* * *

 **Tirdas, 9th of Evening Star**

 **Great Sept of Baelor, King's Landing**

Daenerys Targaryen, accompanied by several Royal Guard members, made her way to the Great Sept of Baelor. It had been five days since Loras Tyrell's inquest and the arrest of both Loras and his sister Margaery. Though Nakos made his plans known to Dany, he explained that they still had to act the part of disappointed and angered rulers. She didn't have to feign much anger, so it was easy for her to march into the Sept, guards at her side, fury etched on her beautiful face. She was determined to get a measure of this man, one way or the other. If she had to Shout down the Militant that made the mistake of getting in her way, all the better.

She was disappointed when the few guards in their drab gray robes stood aside when they saw her and her retinue coming. Unsurprisingly, she found him at the foot of the Seven Faced God's statue, praying. "High Sparrow." She called out softly, but the tone in her voice suggested he had better listen.

The High Sparrow didn't stand or look up, unbothered by the dangerous edge in her voice. "Your Grace."

Dany folded her arms across her chest. "You should have the decency to stand when you talk to the queen."

"And you should have the decency to kneel before the gods."

"Don't spar with me. I've dealt with forces you could barely comprehend. You do not frighten me with your piety and misguided beliefs."

The High Septon stood up slowly, groaning ever so slightly. "Perhaps, but I am a simple man of the people. As for what you have dealt with Your Grace, that might be true, but I do not fear what you are capable of."

"A man of the people?" Dany scoffed. "Is that your game? It's an old game. Dull and unconvincing. You're a man of the people, and yet you do Cersei's dirty work for her. She has always wanted to secure the throne for herself and her family."

The High Sparrow only shrugged. "The people always do the dirty work."

"Spare me the lies. Ever since I took the throne, I've learned to smell frauds and liars a mile off."

"A very useful talent. I know you and Nakos have learned to play the Game."

"As have you. I know you're smarter than you appear, otherwise you couldn't have arranged this farce you call a trial when you did. Cersei simply gave you a nudge in the right direction, provided you with the one witness that could dismantle Loras's defense."

The High Sparrow did not deny or confirm Dany's accusation and instead walked towards the statue of the Father. "Lady Tyrell's grandson and granddaughter swore sacred vows and lied. The Father judges us all. Sons of high lords, sons of fishermen. If you break his laws you will be punished… no matter who you are. Take the history of your family for example."

Dany sneered, having expected the underhanded remark about her family. "I believe my husband already told you not to take the laws of gods and men into your own hands, Sparrow. I am not my father, my brothers, or my ancestors. I chose a man of different blood. You choose to lash out because your ego in your faith took a dramatic blow when Nakos' gods chose to intervene, and the Seven did nothing. If they even exist, which I doubt, why are they so silent?"

"So you would throw away the religion of your father, and your father's father?"

"After what I saw Nakos' gods do… yes." Dany crossed her arms. "I was raised in Essos, I hid from the royal assassins of the crown, and I prayed to the Seven for years as a child yet they did not answer my prayers to go home. I didn't want the throne like my brother, I simply wanted a place where we didn't have to run any longer." Taking a moment to let that sink in, she continued as she slowly closed the gap between herself and the old man. "I have been exposed to hundreds of religions. The Dothraki beliefs were the first among those I came to call my own once. But Nakos' faith in his gods, and the people of Tamriel as a whole, have done what no other has, they have shown proof of their gods workings… and their demons as well."

The High Sparrow said nothing, but instead made his way towards the door.

"Don't you walk away from me," Dany reprimanded. She didn't bother reminding him she was his queen, having a feeling it wouldn't do her any good anyway.

"I don't recognize your authority at this moment, Queen Daenerys. Your speech, while impassioned, does not convince me of anything. Only that you've been misled." He sounded genuinely sad for her.

Dany was incredulous. " _Misled_? How can you say that after everything that's happened? You would deny everything the Nine did to save us because it wasn't the Seven? What are you really after?"

The High Sparrow chuckled. "I imagine this is strange for you after all that you have endured, both at the hands of your brother and everyone since. Everyone you meet has a hidden motive. But I'm telling you a simple truth: I serve the gods. The gods demand justice."

"And how do they communicate their demands?"

"By the holy text. The seven pointed star. If you don't have one in your library, I'll give you my own."

Dany shook her head with contempt in her eyes. "I have no need. As a child that might have been true, but I am a child no longer."

"Then allow me to tell you about the passages concerning buggery and perjury. Lady Tyrell's grandchildren will be punished in the same manner as anyone who breaks the sacred laws." The High Sparrow informed her as if discussing the weather outside.

"There are men, women, and children in this foul city break the sacred laws. You live among murderers, thieves, and rapists. And yet you punish _Loras_ for shagging and _Margaery_ for defending her brother?"

"Yes. The gods' laws must be applied to all equally."

"Then can I expect you to do the same to everyone?" When the old man nodded, Dany nodded back before her face hardened into a deep scowl. "If it's equality you want, then so be it. When House Tyrell stops sending their crops to the capital, everyone here will starve. And I'm sure the Queen of Thorns will make sure the hungry know who to blame."

The High Sparrow thought on his words before speaking. "Have you ever served the field, Your Grace? Have you ever reaped the grain? Has anyone in your House? While you started humbly, you didn't remain in such a position, and you've become blind to the many. I do not deny neither you nor His Grace have great power, but even the most powerful can be overthrown by the masses." With that, he walked out of the room, leaving an infuriated Dany and her guards in the Sept, alone.

Dany watched him go, her eyes alight with scorn. "I have suffered more than most people you have ever met, and toiled just as hard as any." She called after him before the door in the back of the Sept slammed shut. Without a word needing to be said, the guards and she left the stone building. Only once they had made it back to the castle did she allow herself a smile. The High Sparrow would be in for a surprise.

* * *

 **Fredas, 12th of Evening Star**

 **The Dreadfort**

The Great Hall of the Dreadfort was silent as Roose Bolton and his bastard son, Ramsay Snow, dined silently along with his family. Ten years had done nothing for their old hatreds against Nakos and his Targaryen whore, or the sweeping changes he had instituted across the land. They had been left largely alone, so long as they had done nothing to anger the Dragonborn, but Roose only needed to look at his son to be reminded of how much they'd lost during the war. Both of his hands had been cut off when the Imperial Legion attacked the Dreadfort and took Theon Greyjoy from their jail. Ramsay was also taken prisoner, but was given back to Roose to ensure they would not be betrayed during the War Beyond the Wall.

And their troubles had begun when Joffrey and Tywin had been killed either by betrayal or demons attacking the capital. Whatever the case, it didn't matter, the Boltons had lost whatever power they had manage to attain no thanks to the foreigners.

Rikke's promotion to the position of general of the royal armies made Roose's life a living hell. While she was not permitted by Nakos to murder Roose and every one of the Boltons for their killing of Tullius, that didn't stop her from harassing Roose constantly with her authority. Anytime she came north, she made it a point to stop by the Dreadfort to 'inspect' the castle from top to bottom, looking for an excuse to finally remove his head from his shoulders. Roose took some small satisfaction at denying her at every turn, so far. That didn't stop him from imagining flaying her skin off her… one inch at a time, savoring her screams for as long as he could drag it out before she finally succumbed. But those dreams were far from a reality. Nakos' powers and incredible ability to command and lead saw to it that he would not be challenged openly.

"You know, Father," Ramsay said as a servant put a goblet to his lips, helping him to drink his wine. "There is no reason why we can't… capture Rikke when she visits us again. We can say that she attacked us. Nakos must know how… unstable she is."

"Are you so stupid to believe that bastard would believe us over one of his own?" Roose growled in retort. "Rikke has a temper, yes, but she's no fool, and neither is our new liege lord, Robb Stark. He'd know, and he'd have all of our heads mounted on spikes before the new moon rises in the sky. Varys's little birds would ensure the truth found its way to him."

"It was just a thought, Father. Certainly better than sitting on our hands...oh right." Ramsay held up his stumps before dropping them to his lap.

"I've told you before, you were foolish to charge a shield wall on your own. You were lucky enough just to survive that encounter. The rest need not be repeated again."

"It had seemed like a good idea at the time." Ramsay shrugged, having gone over this many times before. It had no effect on him anymore, save to give him a small headache and the urge to wrap his nonexistent hands around his father's throat, but the latter had been a daily thing well before his foolish charge and he had yet to do so. He had _some_ self control after all. Still, that didn't stop Ramsay from imagining himself doing so anyway before his mind gave way to a similar dream of ripping Rikke's flesh from her bones. Then of course there was his favorite pet, Reek. He'd have been happy just to have him back under his thumb.

"A good idea." Roose scoffed. "Like it was a good idea to throw that girl over the wall just last week? Servants aren't exactly lining up, Ramsay. We're lucky to have these few inbred halfwits as it is." He gestured to the half dozen maids and servants that were scattered about the great hall, waiting for orders with fearful, bated breath.

"As I told you before, she tried to cut my throat open while shaving me." Ramsay grumbled. "Of course, if we were allowed to flay the skin of disobedient servants and prisoners again, that might not have been a problem. Yet something else we can thank that lizard-brained king and his pale faced whore for."

"If I had known you hated the royal family that much, I'd have come here sooner." Roose was on his feet in an instant, sword in hand when a dark chuckle filled the Hall from a shadowy corner of the room. Ramsay only turned in his seat and raised an eyebrow in amused curiosity when a robed, gold skinned man stepped out of the shadows. "Personally, I happen to agree with you. The Boltons have a lot more in common with the Thalmor than most would ever imagine. Too bad, you've been neutered."

"She's got a pair of balls, Father." Ramsay chortled and smirked even as he subconsciously went for a dagger at his belt that wasn't there as surely as his hands. He mentally slapped himself even as the impulse to neuter her for the insult was slow to disappear. "I take it you're one of these lovely Thalmor we've heard were too busy hiding on their little Isle to help in the war."

"Hiding? Not quite." The woman chuckled as she slowly walked the space of the Hall and stopped just shy of the table. Pulling down her hood, she shook out her raven black hair and blinked luminescent emerald eyes. "Preparing to take down the royalty however, that we have been doing."

"Well, you certainly are a beauty," Ramsay said, looking her up and down.

"Keep your sword in its trousers, Ramsay Snow," the Altmer sneered. "I only prefer women."

"Such a shame." Ramsay shrugged.

"But that does not mean you can't join in."

"Well with an offer like that, how could I refuse? I might be a bit short-handed though." He smirked, and was rewarded with a sultry laugh from the elven woman.

Roose had had enough of this pointless banter by that point. "I think it's time you told us who you are," Roose said, his face as cold as stone. "And why you're here."

"I can't mix business and pleasure with you, can I?" the Altmer asked, and leaned forward ever so subtly. She wasn't disappointed when Roose only rolled his eyes and remained as stone faced as ever. "And now I know why you have to rape any women you get a fancy for." Her face became hard in turn. "But you better not try it with me, or else you'll lose a lot more than your ability to produce more bastards."

"Save your threats. I have no interest in you." Roose growled out. "I've had quite enough of you foreigners as it is."

"It's a good thing we can agree on our mutual hatred of Nakos Nalldiir and his Targaryen wife, Daenerys." The Altmer replied before sitting down at the end of the table, facing Roose with no fear whatsoever. "But before we get down to business, I know your names, so it's only fair you know mine. I am Eldria Joroth, Justicar Overlord, and a friend regarding the royal family's destruction. Them, and their dragons too."

Roose rubbed his chin. "Why does that name sound familiar?" Of course it didn't. He wanted to see if he could get a reaction from her.

Eldira knew he was lying and only shrugged. "Maybe you read it in a story somewhere. Does it matter?"

"I suppose not." Roose replied and leaned back in his chair while Ramsay grinned, clearly excited by the prospect that had suddenly fallen into their laps. "What did you have in mind?"

"Patience, Roose, we'll get there soon enough. I've come a long way to be here and I wouldn't mind some of that wonderful venison I can see on your table. That and an actual bath, but that I can wait on until after our business is done." Roose stared at her for a moment before nodding to one of the servants, allowing him to serve the elf. The man scurried off at a brisk pace, not about to keep him or her waiting. Eldria chuckled and shrugged out of her robes, revealing the elven armor underneath, as well as the sword and shield that hung at her belt. The voluminous robes had hid them from sight, much to their surprise. "There, that's better." She chuckled as she folded the heavy black clothing into a neat pile and handed them to another servant. "Lose them, or damage them in any way, and flaying will be the least of your worries."

"Wow, I think I'm in love already." Ramsay cheerfully said as the servant scurried off as if he expected Eldria to jump up at that very moment and rip his eyes out of his skull… and he would have enjoyed every minute. Eldria was certainly alluring, for a foreigner, and while Ramsay hated them in his own way, he was willing to put that to the side if she truly did have a means to tear down the new established order. "So, my lady," He began and folded his arms over his chest. "What did you have in mind?"

"A little sabotage, a little assassination, a little public humiliation." She replied and smirked before taking a bite from the tray that had been put in front of her. Nodding her approval, she took a moment to savor the taste of the venison before looking towards Ramsay. "I'm just a representative in this, but I've been given authority by my superiors to do what I must to secure allies for our eventual attacks against Nakos and his men. And I'm not without my own power. All Thalmor are highly trained killers, both with blade and spell. And I'm one of the best, I can assure you."

"So you say." Roose retorted, not so quick to believe Eldria on her word alone.

Eldria chuckled once. "Tell me, Roose. What do you know of the old Empire of Tamriel?"

* * *

 **Morndas, 15th of Evening Star**

 **Winterfell**

"Welcome to Winterfell, Lady Nesaerys," Eddard Stark said with a smile as the caravan entered the gates of the castle of the North… if you could call it a castle. It wasn't like King's Landing, which had a huge castle. It looked more like a huge fort, with the main part being the 'castle'. Even so, there was something genuinely warm and comforting about this small, snow covered corner of the world. King's Landing was hot nearly all year round, yet she had never noticed how unwelcoming the capital was. Here though, it was different. Here, she didn't feel like she was surrounded by unfriendly eyes whenever she was among the nobility.

"It's… it's beautiful," she said softly.

"Like you." Eddard said, doing his best to ignore the slight blush on his cheeks.

Nesy blushed. "Well, you're not that bad looking, either."

Robb and his wife Talisa had been walking by at that moment and only smiled down at the two. "I hope I won't be a grandfather too soon." He warned them both teasingly, which had both Eddard and Nesy spinning away from each other. He only chuckled and continued on, but didn't get far when he heard Farkas give a deep laugh from his belly while Vilkas only chuckled.

"Don't worry, Lord Stark. We'll keep an eye on these two lovebirds." Vilkas promised.

"Come on," Eddard pulled Nesaerys towards the Great Hall. "I'm sure my siblings will want to see you again." The Great Hall of Winterfell was not as big as the one in King's Landing, obviously. But it was more homely, with a large hearth against one wall, blazing merrily and filling the chamber with welcome warmth and light. The moment they entered the room though, Grey Wind, Robb's old and tired direwolf, looked up and barked once in greeting before laying his giant head on his paws. "Good to see you too, old friend." Eddard said before looking towards Nesy, gauging her reaction. When he saw she wasn't afraid, he chuckled. "I guess you've seen a direwolf before."

"Jon has a direwolf like that," Nesy said. "Except his is white and has red eyes. He never makes a noise, either." She held out her hand to the great wolf and was rewarded with a half hearted lick of her fingers. The gray around the wolf's muzzle said he was very old, but she didn't doubt that if the need ever arose, Grey Wind would tear open a man's throat in a heart beat. Hence her caution, but it wasn't needed as he allowed her to run a hand along his head and growled contently. "Do you have a direwolf, Eddard?"

"No. I want one, but we haven't been able to find any puppies. The few that have been spotted are always with their parents, making them….hard to get at."

Nesy nodded, and stood to her feet once she was done petting Grey Wind's head. "Probably a good thing not to take them from their parents anyways. That would be cruel."

"Yeah, and besides, Direwolves are only found beyond the Wall. Only the Rangers of the Night's Watch and the Free Folk go up there."

"Ned!" A voice came from one of the doorways and Bran came running towards him, followed by his direwolf, Summer. Grey Wind looked up and regarded Bran briefly before laying his head down again, but the older Stark hardly noticed. "Good to see you again! And Lady Nesaerys, glad you made it all this way."

Nesy curtsied. "Thank you, Lord Bran."

"It's just Bran to you, Nesy." He chuckled and hugged Eddard and her briefly before Summer went up to the girl and licked her face, earning a giggle from her. Bran chuckled and ran a hand across his wolf's back in approval. "He's always been a good judge of character." Nodding to the twins, the two nodded back in return. "If I had known we'd have more dogs wandering around, I'd have had a space reserved in the kennels." He teased the Companions.

Farkas laughed again and slapped a hand on Bran's shoulder, almost sending the young thief stumbling to the ground. "Still a sodding ice brain I see, little wolf. I thought you'd have learned not to provoke a wolf bigger than you."

"I'm a slow learner." Bran chuckled back and rubbed at his shoulder. "But it's good to see you two are doing well. How is everyone at the capital?" 'Everyone' meant Jon and the rest of his relatives, Rhaelor, Nakos, and Dany specifically.

Vilkas took up the conversation in place of his brother. "Little Rhaelor is as studious as ever, but considering his friendship with Tyrion, that's to be expected. Sofie, Alesan, Nakos, and Dany are also well, but as you know, they have a lot to worry about. It's not easy being the rulers of this side of the world."

"I understand," Bran replied. "Ruling Westeros isn't easy." He knew that better than most, even if he hadn't been in King's Landing personally. He still knew what had happened there, why his father had been killed, and what had happened afterwards. Honestly he was still impressed Nakos and Dany had held the city together for as long as they had back in those days. That wasn't even taking into consideration how the whole affair had started in the first place between the Starks and the Lannisters.

"Who else is here?" Eddard asked, drawing Bran out of his thoughts before a much younger version of himself could hit the ground after being pushed from a tower window.

"Sansa and Rickon are here," Bran answered. "I don't know where Arya is. We haven't seen her or heard from her in a while."

"Aren't you worried?" Nesy asked.

"She and Nakos have been almost inseparable. I think he sent her to do some work. I'm sure if something was wrong, he'd tell us." Bran replied, certain that was the case with their new King and Queen. What he didn't say was that he had a lot more information regarding certain affairs than he let on, but such was the price when working with Brynjolf and Varys.

"I hope so," Nesy said softly. The door opened again and both Sansa and Rickon strode in followed closely by Catelyn. While Sansa ran ahead, a blur of red hair and deep blue mages robes, Rickon and Catelyn remained by the door, the youngest of the Starks supporting the older woman who had recently needed to take up a cane to help her get around.

"Lady Nesaerys!" Sansa greeted Nesy with a hug. "Welcome to Winterfell."

"Choking, not breathing." Nesy wheezed, but was all smiles despite Sansa's crushing hug. The mage backed off and blushed scarlet at her exuberance, but Nesy waved her off before she could begin to apologize. "It's good to see you again."

"Thank you. Last time I saw you, you were still waddling with a thumb in your mouth." Nesy blushed but chuckled at the reminder.

Nesaerys saw Lady Catelyn approaching. "Lady Catelyn," she curtsied.

"We're all family here, Nesaerys. Cat is more than enough, young lady." Cat admonished her gently and embraced her with one arm wrapped firmly around the young Nalldir. "Ooh, you've grown since I saw you last." She laughed, truly happy for this moment. "Your father must be proud of you and your brother." Cat continued once she had let Nesy go.

"He is, my lady," Nesy said respectfully. "At least I hope he is. He says so often enough, but I still can't Shout yet." She sighed and lowered her head, but Catelyn tapped her chin and smiled.

"Consider that a blessing in disguise. From what I've heard, the dragon soul is hard to control if you aren't prepared for it. I know your father has told you from experience." A subtle look towards Sansa told the observant among them that they had talked a great deal about Nakos and Dany as well as their abilities. That aside, Catelyn knew Nakos well enough to be certain he had said something to that effect more than once. It was just the kind of man he was.

Nesy nodded and blushed in mild embarrassment at her own eagerness. "You're right. I guess I just get excited at the idea, and forget it can bring trouble, too."

"I'll say." Rickon chuckled, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. "But I can't blame you for wanting to do it yourself."

"I've heard the stories from those who were with him. Mjoll, especially. She says that it's a scary thing to see." Bran said, to which Sansa nodded in agreement. "I'm just glad he's such a good man."

"Indeed." Catelyn agreed before looking towards the long trench table at the other end of the hall before glancing back at Nesy and her family. "Come, you must be starving after such a long ride, and I'm not as young as I used to be."

"You don't look a day over thirty Namedays." Nesy was quick to say, to which Catelyn laughed and shook her head at the girl's kind words.

"You're too kind, Nesaerys. It's good to see your father's silver tongue was passed on just fine."

"And from the noises coming from his chambers, it does wonders _elsewhere_ ," Farkas whispered to Vilkas. Vilkas had the decency to cover his mouth and stifle his chuckle at his brother's words, even if he knew all too well it was the truth.

Sansa only smiled and shook her head at the pair of Companions, guessing all too well what they had said to each other. Despite the true reason she was here at Winterfell, the elder Stark and mage was overjoyed to be home again, surrounded by her family, both new and old. It was truly good to be home.

Once Nesy and Eddard had turned in for the night, in beds halfway across the castle from each other, much to the twins' amusement, only then did Sansa and Bran approach the bodyguards and subtly jerk their heads to a nearby empty chamber. They nodded in understanding, getting the hint before having another royal guard take their place in front of the princess' chamber. Once the door was shut and Sansa had put a silence spell over the room, ensuring their words wouldn't be heard by anyone else, only then did the mage lock eyes with the twins. "We have a problem brewing."

"We've heard rumors of trouble all over the kingdom m'lady." Vilkas started. "In both Westeros _and_ Essos."

"Uprisings, cults of fanatics, and more. What's happening up here though, lady wolf?" Farkas asked, his arms crossed and his back against the door.

"We've gotten reports of strangers wandering the countryside, especially near the Dreadfort." Bran said and pulled out a sealed parchment, bearing the Thieves Guild insignia before he put it back into his clothing with a simple flick of his wrist. "I wanted to talk to you or whoever came with Nesy before I sent it off."

"To confirm your findings, I imagine. Smart lad for one of Varys'." Farkas chuckled and nodded his approval.

"Brynjolf's." Bran corrected Farkas. "Some things don't change, and not trusting an eunuch is one of those. Besides, he might work for Nakos, but he also served the Mad King Aerys, King Robert, and King Joffrey. That alone doesn't endear me to the Spider."

"I can understand your concern," Vilkas began and stroked his chin in thought, "but things have changed for the better. You know this better than anyone, young Bran."

"Perhaps, but I have to agree with my brother, Ser Vilkas. The fact the Kingslayer is part of Nakos' personal guard doesn't sit well with me, either, even if he has done nothing since to deserve my mistrust." Sansa said in turn, making it clear she was still a bit sore about Jaime Lannister pushing her brother out of a window.

Bran nodded. "Well, better safe than sorry." He handed the letter to Vilkas. "Make sure this gets to Nakos. He would want to know what's going on here, especially, if his daughter his here up north."

"I'll have it gone by morning, I promise." Vilkas said, making a mental note to have one of the royal messenger birds ready to fly as soon as he left this room. "Is there anything else, young wolf?"

"No, just watch yourselves and Nesy. I have a bad feeling our troubles are just beginning." Bran said, and looked towards the window, where they could hear the caw of a raven. They immediately thought the same thing, and shivered as a wave of cold went down their respective spines.

* * *

 **Turdas, 18th of Evening Star**

 **Red Keep, King's Landing**

 **The Black Cells**

Margaery Tyrell sat uncomfortably on the stone floor of one of the Black Cells. She had heard stories about them, but she had always thought they weren't as bad as they were made to sound. Few things were once they had passed from mouth to mouth across multiple people after all, but this wasn't the case this time. The Black Cells were as horrible as they were described. It was bad enough she was locked up regarding the farce of the trial the High Sparrow and Cersei had put together, but it was the utter silence and darkness that was truly getting to her. Never before had she experienced such a sense of dread and helplessness before, and nothing had even happened to her really. She was fed regularly, her slop bucket was emptied, and she was given just enough chain to move around as she wished, allowing her to stretch her legs, but none of that helped with the feeling of complete isolation. Despite the silent wink from Nakos, she was beginning to doubt whether he was actually doing anything to help. The passage of time was lost down here, so she did not know what day it was, if it was morning, noon, or night. If she'd been down here a few days or a few weeks. She just did not know.

The door to her cell opened and her heart skipped a beat, thinking that Nakos had finally come. She was sorely disappointed, and then enraged, when she saw the ever smug look on the blonde's flawless face when she saw who it was: Cersei Lannister.

Cersei walked into the cell, holding up a handkerchief to her nose. "This is horrible. Unacceptable. Are they feeding you enough at least?"

Margaery did not respond. She had nothing to say to this bitch.

"I brought you this," Cersei continued. "Venison. It's quite good. I had it myself for supper only last night. We did everything we could from the moment they took your brother. Nakos even went to the sept himself to confront the High Sparrow, but I fear The Faith has left reason behind."

Margaery knew that was a lie. Well, she knew Cersei hadn't done a thing to help anyway. If anything, Margaery was certain she had had a hand in this madness, and said as much. "I know you did this."

"Nakos and Daenerys are making every effort on your behalf. I swear to you by all the seven gods."

"Lies come easily to you," Margaery sneered, ignoring the half truth for what it was. "Everyone knows that. But innocence, decency, concern? You're not very good at those, I'm afraid."

Cersei feigned a sigh of concern. "You're upset. You're not thinking clearly." She turned to walk out. "I'll visit again when you've had a chance to calm down."

"I don't want to see you again." Margaery spat out and stood to her feet so quickly the chain wrapped around her foot clanked and jangled against the floor.

Cersei turned back. "I do hope you change your mind about that. I've been told men often go mad in the Black Cells below the Red Keep, but I suppose your isolation will end once your trial begins."

Margaery's face turned into a snarl. "Leave."

Cersei let the tiniest hint of a smug smile pull at her lips as she started for the door. "Yes, I'm afraid I must."

"Get out, you hateful bitch!" Margaery roared, on the verge of trying to lunge at the smug Lannister despite her bondage.

"Sleep well, Lady Margaery." Cersei turned and walked out and Margaery knew Cersei was smiling.

Margaery slumped against the wall, turned to her side and tried to fall asleep in order to forget what had just happened. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Cersei had gotten under her skin, had made her begin to doubt Nakos' commitment to get her and Loras out of this situation. Cersei had won, and she hadn't need to kill anyone to do it. She didn't know how much time had passed, it could have been minutes or hours, before the door opened again. Margaery jerked up, half-expecting Cersei to be there again.

But this time, there were several hooded figures standing at the door. "So… Cersei sent you here to kill me." It wasn't a question.

"Not today, Lady Margaery," One of the figures said. "We're here to get you out of this place. You and your brother both."

"And why should I believe you?"

Another hooded figure walked forward and took off his hood and mask. Margaery's eyes went wide. "Your… Your Grace?" When she recovered, a small smile pulled at her lips. "This answers a lot of questions."

"I imagine it would." Nakos chuckled before pulling his hood and mask over his face again. "First, can I trust that you keep this a secret? Westeros does not need to know their king sneaks around in a hood and mask in his spare time. I'd rather it didn't become common knowledge."

"Of course." Margaery agreed without hesitation, both to his request to keep this between them and for the fact that no one needed to know. The King had the right to do as he wished, and Nakos must have had a good reason for running around as a robed assassin.

"Excellent. Then let us get that manacle off you and get moving." With a simple nod, Nakos stepped back and let one of his men approach.

One of the figures walked in and took a lockpick out, began to pick the lock to the chain. With a pop, the manacle came off. "There ya go, m'lady. Free as a bird once more."

Nakos handed her a sack. "I think you may want to change out of those rags first."

Margaery looked in the sack to see some clothes. They weren't her normal royal clothes, but right now, it was better than the rags she was wearing. She quick ducked back in the cell to change and when she came out, Nakos took her by the hand. "Try to stay close." Margaery only nodded before doing her best to keep up with the King.

"Remind me to thank you once we're out of here." She whispered, mindful of the fact they wouldn't want to be caught by the guards that were surely patrolling the dark dungeons.

"No thanks are necessary, Lady Tyrell." Nakos chuckled softly. "I'm just sorry it took so damn long to get to you and Loras." He replied just as another of his men lead a grateful Loras out of a side passage and into the main group. "Ser Loras."

"Thank you, whoever you are." The young man said before embracing his sister tightly, albeit briefly. "Gods, I thought this nightmare would never end."

"It'll be over soon, my dear brother." Margaery promised before pulling away and nodding to Nakos. He only nodded back, keeping his identity secret from the knight. Margaery he trusted, Loras however he didn't, but only because as harmless as his relationship was with the traitorous Olyvar, it had been his mess that had gotten them here in the first place. Time in the Black Cells wasn't enough of a punishment, and a subtle glance towards Nakos before he turned away to lead them out of the dungeons suggested they were of the same mind.

A few moments later, they were out of the cells and out into the open again. It was night outside, but Margaery was never so happy to breath the fresh air again. Unsurprisingly, there were three horses waiting for them. Their grandmother was on one of them. The moment Loras was within arm's reach, Margaery had to bite her tongue when Olenna slapped the young man across his cheek. "That's for getting all of us into this mess in the first place!"

"But grandm-"

"No buts! Not another word!" Olenna hissed, her tone brooking no argument whatsoever. Loras looked down and rubbed his sore cheek, having a feeling her handprint would be there for days.

"Ser Loras," Nakos said, disguising his voice in a lowborn accent, and the Knight of Flowers turned around. "Is there anything else we need to know? Anything else you've hidden from His Grace?"

Loras looked thoughtful for a moment, despite the red welt on his cheek. "Nothing comes immediately to mind, Ser. But...if I think of anything, I'll be sure to tell him. I owe him my freedom, as well as that of my sister."

"What about Olyvar?" Olenna asked as Loras and Margaery mounted up. She looked away for two seconds and saw that all but the disguised Nakos remained with them. She blinked, confused by the other assassins' sudden disappearance, but she let it go.

Nakos smiled, though it was hidden by his mask. "He'll no longer be a problem."

Loras wisely held his tongue, knowing a threat when he heard one. Olyvar had betrayed him sure, but….death in his opinion seemed a little extreme. "But what about my position in the Royal Guard?" Loras asked. "Would His Grace strip me of that title because of what happened?"

"Your rank should be the least of your concerns right now." Nakos replied without looking over his shoulder. "I will talk to His Grace and pass your question onto him. He will send you his answer, but for now, we have a safehouse for you to stay in. If he allows you back, then so be it, but if not, I can only assume you will be headed back to Highgarden for your safety."

"But…" Loras began, but a hard glare from both Olenna and the masked Nakos silenced him on the spot.

"Do not concern yourself, Ser Loras." Nakos said with a dark chuckle. "This will be rectified soon…"

* * *

 **Meanwhile...**

Olyvar was busy counting out his coin from his payment from Cersei in one of Petyr's old brothels. They were his now, having earned them through the past ten years. He had learned from the best conman in the business, and he knew the value of both coin and information because of Petyr Baelish. When the offer had been made to cause trouble for Nakos and his followers, Olyvar had jumped on the opportunity. They were responsible for Petyr's death, after all, and while the man hadn't really acknowledged Olyvar openly, he had looked up to Littlefinger. Petty revenge like this was good enough for him, for now, but Olyvar had plans to do more if given the chance.

"One thousand gold dragons? I thought betraying your King and country would have been worth more. I'm disappointed." Olyvar gave a gasp and turned around on his heel, but he was far too slow when a dagger stopped just shy of his throat. He could not see the assassin in front of him, but felt the dagger. "Before I gut you, I just want to know one thing. Why?"

"Nakos had my best friend killed," Olyvar answered quickly. "Petyr Baelish."

"The fraudulent Master of Coin? The reason the crown was so far in debt? You idolized _him_?" A laugh came from the shadows, and it unnerved Olyvar.

"He did more for me than anyone ever did." Was Olyvar's explanation.

"I see. That explains why you would die for him, and why you would risk so much for so little. You thought you were smarter than you actually are. Like him, you overextended yourself, little mockingbird. This time it'll cost you."

Olyvar opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped short when the dagger ran against his throat. Instead of words, blood poured past his lips and down the front of his blue open vest before he fell to the ground at the assassin's unseen feet. The assassin stepped over his body, avoiding the blood, and took the money. "I think someone else would benefit more from this."

That morning, when Cersei sought out her informant for another job, she was greeted by the sight of Olyvar hanging from the ceiling. She felt all the blood leave her face when she saw the symbol of the black hand carved into his chest, with a single word carved into his flesh. " _ **Traitor**_." On the desk, she found a note with an inky black handprint, addressed to her. On it, it said. " _ **We know.**_ _**You're next**_ _."_ She never ran out a room so fast in her life.


	6. Blades of the Thalmor

_**Author's Note:**_ _Hello all! I want to apologize for the delay between chapters. Life happens. Since I posted the last chapter, I had major surgery, and in addition to family issues and working on another project, I had to push this to the side. But now with the family and health issues subsided for now, I can try to get this back on track. I won't be able to update this as often as I had in the past due to my new job as an EMT, but I will continue working on this when I can._

* * *

 **Turdas, 18th of Evening Star, 5E 10**

 **Meereen**

"I think I'm going to be sick." Jax groaned as he clutched at his stomach after being spat out of the portal. It took a moment, but soon the contents of his stomach came up onto the ground.

Arya only chuckled. She remembered her first time going through the portal ten years ago. "You ok, princess?"

"Bite me, wolf girl." Jax growled before putting a hand to his mouth, feeling ready to hurl for the second time in as many minutes. The feeling passed though, and he was able to keep whatever was left in his stomach from adding itself to the pile already at his feet.

Arya only laughed more. "Awww, no calling me princess this time?" She leaned into his ear. "But you would _want_ me to bite you, wouldn't you?"

Jax looked up at her, the smallest smirk forming on his lips. "Maybe later. I wouldn't want to throw up on your pretty face…. princess." Wiping at his mouth with the back of his sleeve once he was sure he was done losing his lunch, Jax sighed and looked away. The fact they were missing most of their friends wasn't lost on either of them as he saw Arya's teasing smile disappear about the same time. "Let's… just find our way around this place. Maybe we'll get lucky for once."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," Arya replied, but she was silently hoping for the same thing. "Keep your eyes open for a Shadowmark. Thief, Dark Brotherhood, either one would be welcome at this point."

Starting on their way through the crowded streets of Meereen, past the Unsullied guards who only nodded at them on their way by, Jax decided to strike up some idle conversation to pass the time. "Where'd you learn to fight like that anyway, princess? I don't think I've ever seen that toothpick of yours be useful until recently." In all honesty, Jax had been in awe of how easily Arya had utterly destroyed the Thalmor soldiers with precise, single strikes, Needle proving quite capable in finding weaknesses in their armor with little effort.

Arya offered a sad smile. "His name was Syrio Forrel. He was the First Sword of Braavos. He taught me the style of water dancing. I was small then, so I needed an art that would use my size to my advantage."

"Makes sense. I'm just glad I was on your side. Those bastards had no idea what hit them." He chuckled weakly, and patted Arya on the back in approval before turning back to the street in front of them. "I might have to get me one of those skinny blades sometime. Maybe you could show me how to use it."

"I thought you already had a skinny blade?" Arya asked, and glanced down between Jax's legs. She smirked when he caught onto the joke.

Jax raised his eyebrows. "Oh, very funny, princess. Hasn't anyone told you size doesn't matter?"

"So you say." She chuckled again and slipped past a group of merchants, her hand deftly lifting one of their heavy coin purses as they passed. They'd need the extra coin to resupply and prepare for whatever came next. That and she wanted a roof over her head and a hot, scalding bath to wash away the events of the last few days. A quick glance to her side said that Jax was thinking the same thing when he idly tossed a freshly liberated coin purse between his hands, a sly little smirk on his lips as he whistled a tune.

"Want to bet who has more?" Jax teased softly.

"No."

"Afraid you'd lose?" Jax asked, only for Arya to casually bump into him. He had all of two seconds to realize the bag he'd been tossing about was now hanging from her belt before she tripped him, sending him head over heels just shy of a puddle of water. "I really need to just shut up sometime, don't I?" He mused aloud and sighed heavily before jumping to his feet.

"Yep, and besides, I know what kind of bet you'd make." Even so, Arya couldn't help but smile at her incorrigible companion. She wasn't sure she'd have made it this far without him to keep her sane, at least to some extent anyway. You had to be slightly mentally challenged to willingly work for a guild of merciless assassins.

"You know me too well, princess," Jax said. His smile grew ever so slightly when he stopped in front of a building: a general goods store. He pointed to the Shadowmark carved into the pillar, denoting that it was a safehouse for the Thieves Guild. "So, you want to knock, or should I, princess?"

Arya only rolled her eyes. Jax chuckled as he knocked on the door himself. It didn't take long for someone to open the door. It was an older, bearded man. He looked them over quizzically. "Yes?"

"I saw the mark," Arya said quickly.

The man nodded. "Come in. Quickly." The two young assassins ducked inside and the old man led them down a hidden staircase in the back of his store to the basement and into the sewers. From there they soon came upon a spartan, yet comfortable hideout for the Thieves Guild here in Meereen. Despite being in the sewers, there were plenty of amenities for the weary traveler among the group. A fully stocked bar, food, places to rest between jobs, and a couple of fences operated down here, eager to sell off any loot that was brought in. "Make yourselves comfortable." The old man said and nodded to the pair before walking back up to maintain the innocuous store front.

"Well, well, if it isn't Arya Stark." Another gruff man walked towards them, a smile on his face.

"Devin," Arya nodded to him. "Gods, it's good to see a familiar face."

"Had a bit of trouble?"

"That would be an understatement."

Devin picked up on her tone. "That bad?" Holding up her freshly healed thumb, the scar around the base of the finger said quite a bit. "What happened?"

"I have one word for you," Jax chimed in. "Thalmor." All the conversation in the den stopped with that single utterance. Jax blinked and looked away and saw more than a few faces bearing frustrated and angry visages equally. "Huh, and I thought it was just us having all the foul luck lately."

"Trust me kid, you aren't." Devin replied, and led them away to a quieter part of the underground hideout, away from potentially unfriendly ears. "We've had trouble of our own. Former slave masters have been causing havoc all over Meereen. The Sons of the Harpy, they're calling themselves. And they've somehow found ways to get elven weapons. Now tell me how _that_ is possible."

"We _did_ find something in Braavos that mentioned the Thalmor could be here as well. I guess that part's true, after all."

"Not to mention," Arya added, "They're apparently in Westeros as well."

"Shit." Devin cursed and shook his head before leaning against a stone wall. "Guess the rumors we've heard are true then. The Thalmor are finally stirring, which is bad news for everyone else. No wonder they stayed out of the war ten years back. They were waiting for an opportune time to strike. I'd congratulate them on their cunning, except that'd be giving a compliment to an old enemy." He looked up then and swept his eyes over the pair of assassins, curiosity on his face. "What happened to you exactly? If you'd rather not say, I'd understand, but it'd help to know so we have an idea of what to expect if the Thalmor hit us directly."

Arya looked away, unable to meet Devin's gaze while Jax shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Just when the old thief thought they wouldn't say a word, Arya blew out a breath and looked up into his face. "We… ran into a lot more trouble than I expected we would. I got us captured, tortured, and most of my team killed. Jax and I were the only ones to escape."

"Gods, no wonder you look half dead on your feet. But take heart, young wolf, you escaped despite the odds. That in itself is a victory, even if it doesn't feel like it now." Arya didn't feel better, but she took the words to heart anyway. Devin could see it in her face and patted her on the shoulder just as Jax coughed, getting the old man's attention. "Yes?"

"What can we do _here_?" Jax asked. "I would rather not sit here useless."

"You've done enough lad. You two need to rest and get your heads on straight before you do anything more." Devin held up a hand when Arya started to protest. "Believe me, I understand all too well how you feel. I survived an attempted takedown of the guild when Nakos was still an active part of the Thieves. I lost more than a few good friends during that time, and I wanted nothing more than to get back into the fight. Sometimes though, it's best to take a step back first, recollect yourselves, and let others carry the torch for a while. If you have anything to send back to Nakos, that we can take care of, but that's about all I'm going to let you do for us."

Arya sighed. "Fine. But don't expect me to rest for _too_ long."

"You'll rest for however long I want you to," Devin chuckled, though his face was serious. "That's an order. I don't want anything to happen to you. Nakos would never forgive me."

"He's got us there, princess." Jax agreed hesitantly, more afraid of the Dragonborn than Arya, even if she was right at his side and glaring daggers through his face. "I'd rather you stab me first than have Nakos get a chance to cook me alive for letting you do something foolishly brave."

"Fine, fine." She growled and threw her hands up in defeat. Even as the words left her mouth though, a part of her agreed it would be good for them to take a few days to gather themselves for the days to come.

Devin pounced on her hesitation to push the argument further. "I would be disappointed if you didn't feel for your recent losses, little wolf. Whatever Nakos had you doing, I'm sure it was important. Take solace in the fact that they willingly gave up their lives to see you escape and the mission done. Sometimes that's all we can do at the end of the day." Arya nodded, but said nothing else. Devin stood to his feet. "You two should get something to eat and washed up. You smell awful. You especially, Jaxass."

"Why is everyone picking on me today, anyway?" Jax mused, but shrugged it off as Devin started away.

"Don't worry, princess," Arya teased as she placed a hand on his cheek playfully tapping it. "You'll get used to it."

They both ate bowls of clam chowder for dinner before Arya went to the designated washing area. It wasn't much more than a few partitions and a few small tubs, but at the moment, she didn't care. As long as she had hot water, which she did, she could have been swimming in a horse's trough and been happy about it. The water in the tub began turning an ugly brown color as she washed all the grime and dried blood off her body, but she hardly noticed.

"Damn, you're dirtier than me," Jax's voice came from behind her, making her jump and spin around in alarm. He held up a hand and instinctively blocked the jab that would have otherwise hit him square in the throat. "Whoa! Easy there, Arya!"

"Then don't scare me to death, shit head!" She hissed before blinking her eyes in confusion. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Came to check on you actually, but if you want to try and crush my windpipe I can go elsewhere." He grumbled and crossed his arms over his bare chest, the only thing covering him a simple towel wrapped around his lower waist.

"I should crush something else," she snapped back before leaning back into the tub. She took a breath, then a second, before her heart finally began to settle from a frantic gallop to a far more sedate pace. "I'm sorry…. you didn't deserve that."

"Hey, we've been through Oblivion recently. I'm a bit jumpy myself." Jax admitted, and kicked at a loose piece of the floor, sending a rock tumbling away. "I keep expecting those bastards to find us here, just like they did back at our safe house. I know they can't, though, not after how we got here, but it's still in the back of my mind anyway."

"Yeah…." Arya sighed and ran her hands down her face before letting them fall at her sides under the dirty water's surface. "I can still see them Jax….Morgen, Cassius, Kirsten, Cameron….they trusted me to get them home and...it all went to shit. Because I got overconfident, just like that Asscano said. Nakos made a mistake letting me take the lead. It should have been someone else."

"He didn't make a mistake, Arya. It wasn't your fault that our friends died." Jax softly said and hesitantly put a hand on the young woman's bare shoulder.

She stiffened at the touch, but she relaxed almost as quickly. "I hope you're not here just to try and see me naked."

"Eh," he shrugged. "The thought had crossed my mind, I'll admit. But I _do_ have _some_ decency, Arya. I wouldn't be much of a friend if I let you suffer alone."

She managed a weak smile and reached up for the hand on her shoulder and squeezed his fingers in silent gratitude for his attempt to cheer her up. She said nothing for a moment, just happy for his company. Afterward, she held a hand up, "Hand me a towel." Jax went to get one and handed it to her. "No peeking," she said as she held it up to block his view. She ducked behind a partition and soon came back out with the towel wrapped over her chest. She was almost disappointed that Jax hadn't tried to catch a peek when she saw him standing in the same spot he'd been earlier.

"I didn't peek," Jax said with a dry chuckle, "just as you commanded, princess." Whatever else he had planned to say died somewhere between his mouth and his throat when Arya dropped the towel with a feigned sigh. "Uh….um...huh?"

She merely smiled and pulled him in close for a deep, smoldering kiss. When she let him come up for air, she was happy to note he was no longer making confused induced noises. "Thank you, for being there this whole time, Jax." He only smirked and nodded. Some things just didn't need to be said, not that she gave him a chance to respond before tugging at the towel around his waist, letting it fall to the floor.

* * *

 **Meanwhile...**

"Are you sure about this, Devin?" Daario asked, as he and Serena met the thief in a pre-designated meeting spot when news had reached him about the recent arrival of the assassins. They needed whatever information they could get, and with the increasingly violent attacks by the Harpies, they needed every bit of help they could get.

"From what Arya Stark and her friend Jax told me, and what they gave me to send to Nakos, I'd say our time's up." Devin sighed and nodded to the vampire. "You know better than any of us what the Thalmor can do, Lady Volkihar. You traveled with Nakos, you have personal experience with the gold-skinned bastards."

"Yeah I did, but we tried to avoid them wherever possible." Serena replied, but put a finger to the thief's lips before he could respond. "Be it as it may, the best we can do is keep eliminating their agents wherever they pop up. The Harpies are obviously their new allies here in Meereen, if this is to be believed." She gestured to the papers the two assassins had passed on to Devin to have sent back to the capital. "Which means we don't have to play nice any longer. We take the fight to them."

"Fucking the Thalmor up the ass?" Daario chuckled. "Count me in. And I think I know where to start."

* * *

 **Middas, 19th of Evening Star, 5E 10**

 **Braavos**

Ancano drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk he sat at. His golden eyes glared at each of the other Thalmor agents in the room with him. His gaze settled on each of them, for a few seconds at a time. When he spoke, he voice was unusually calm and cool. "So you're telling me, that two of them escaped. And you have no idea where they are." It wasn't a question. The Thalmor nervously swallowed the lumps in their throats and shook their heads. "Incompetent fools, all of you." He growled and slammed a hand onto his desk before gesturing for them to leave. Outsmarted by a bunch of little rats. Several of them might have been killed, but that didn't change the facts. The group lead by Arya Stark had made a mockery of his men, had killed one of the Justicars, and had escaped with sensitive documents pertaining to their future plans.

"Lord Ancano," one of the younger Thalmor said, but his words died in his throat when Ancano glared daggers at him.

"No. Please. Continue." The former 'ambassador' to the Mages College said and gestured with his hand for the young lad to give his report. "I'm sure you can't make my murderous mood any worse."

The young Altmer swallowed hard. "My Lord An-Ancano, t-the messenger has returned. He says there's someone here to see you. H-he said it was important. It's in regards to the escaped thieves and assassins."

Ancano stared at the elf hard. "And you're just telling me this _now_?" He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "How long has it been since they escaped? Eleven days? Why didn't you tell me before?"

"We...we...we... we wanted to see if they were still hiding in Braavos first."

Ancano's voice was still calm, but his demeanor spoke volumes. "Send that messanger in… now. And don't come back until you bring me back something halfway useful. If you don't, I won't have you gelded, I'll have you _eviscerated_." The young Altmer soldier bolted out of the room, not about to waste what few hours he might have left if Ancano did decide to have him publicly executed.

As for the man himself, Ancano was half tempted to dig out the bottle of Altmer wine he kept in his desk, brought all the way from the Isle, but held back the urge. It was just as well because no sooner had he shut the hidden drawer in his desk did the door to his office open, and standing before him was a black robed assassin. "You survived." Ancano said, to which the man simply nodded. "Yet your friends escaped. I hope you have an explanation or an idea of where they might have disappeared."

Pulling the mask down from his face, Cassius walked up to the desk and nodded. "Meereen. That's the last place I heard them talk about before I led your men on a merry dance through the dungeons."

"It was that merry dance that caused two of them to get away."

"How was I supposed to know?" Cassius shrugged. "I thought your wizard and captain would be able to handle them."

"Don't contradict me, boy, or would you rather I renege on our agreement?" Cassius growled something unsavory in his throat but Ancano ignored it, and leaned back in his chair. "I thought not. Your continued cooperation ensures she still draws breath, Cassius. You have ensured she is still useful to us, with the information you've provided, even though I would have preferred them dead after their usefulness came to an end. But perhaps this will work to our advantage. Go to Meereen. Find them, kill them, and any that have helped them. If you survive, you'll be reunited with her when you return with Arya Stark's head, as well as this Jax."

"Fine, but after this I'm done. I just want my sister back. As long as you stay true to your word, I'll do what I have to do." Cassius growled and left the office.

Ancano watched him go. "Keep an eye on him," he said to another agent. "He may be our mole, but that doesn't mean I trust him."

* * *

 **Loredas, 20th of Evening Star, 5E 10**

 **Meereen**

Daario was silent about his plans as he led Serana, and Grey Worm through the streets of Meereen. They were wearing normal clothes, but had some armor underneath. "The Unsullied and the city guards are too conspicuous," he said as they walked through the streets. "Anyone could see you coming from a mile off. That's why you haven't found any Sons of the Harpy. We need the element of surprise."

"So what are you proposing?" Serana asked. Grey Worm remained the ever silent guard that he usually was unless directly spoken to. That didn't mean he never had anything to say, he just chose not to speak to most people unless addressed first.

"Well, we have some eyes and ears in the city already," Daario answered. "My Second Sons, they drink, they whore, fight in the streets-they blend in. They overhear things in taverns, follow people from the taverns to nice, quiet alleys, break a few fingers, overhear a few more things. Before you know it…" He brought them to a door.

"One of them here?" Grey Worm asked in his broken Common Tongue.

"If my sources hold true." Daario said and winked playfully towards Serana, who only smirked and shook her head in response.

It was enough for Grey Worm as he kicked the door in and led the way inside, spear at the ready. Unfortunately, it looked to him like there was no one home, and he said as much. "No one here. We go."

"No," Serana whispered. "There is someone here. I can smell him." She indicated a bookshelf with her eyes.

Ignoring Serana for a moment, Daario turned and smirked at Grey Worm. "In a hurry? You're afraid?"

"Unsullied fear nothing." Grey Worm replied, a just noticeable edge to his otherwise monotone voice.

"Right. That's your problem. You understood fear once, long ago, but you've forgotten what it means. Someone who's forgotten fear has forgotten how to hide." Daario quickly pulled a dagger out, and after winking at Serana once again, stabbed into a wall covered by a bookcase. A scream came from the other end and the wall immediately gave way, the case and pieces of the wall falling all over the floor. The reason became apparent when the dust settled and a man could be seen in the middle of the dust and debris, dressed in the traditional slave master garb. "Fear is useful that way." He patted Grey Worm on the shoulder.

Grey Worm searched the hiding place and found elven daggers laying on the ground with a Son of the Harpy mask. Serana stayed by the door, her arms crossed, with one hand resting just shy of her mouth, and silently watched the entire affair. When Grey Worm came out holding the mask, she narrowed her glowing orbs and looked at the Harpy with disgust. "Cowards who attack from the shadows like you don't deserve the air they breathe."

"Says the Volkihar bitch that serves these cockless boys." The harpy laughed, despite the stab wound in his thigh. "Yes, we know who and what you are, blood drinker. Our new friends were quite informative."

"Well, at least your ego just condemned you to a slow death." Daario said with a shrug of his shoulders. "But thanks for confirming we're up against the Thalmor. They might just leave you the use of your legs after they're done with you." He nodded to the 'cockless boys', who were looking at the man with barely hidden rage. "I wouldn't count on them letting you live past tomorrow, though. Funny what freedom does for even former slave soldiers."

The slave master looked up defiantly at the Unsullied. "Let them kill me. I welcome it."

Serana chuckled. "Who said _they_ were going to kill you? Grey Worm, let him go." The Commander of the Unsullied gave her a quizzical look, but she nodded her head and let the barest hint of a fang flash in the light. "I have a means of making him talk. Trust me."

"As you say, pale one." Grey Worm gave the order, and the soldier kicked the slave master down to the floor at Serana's feet.

"You know what I am, but do you know what I can do?" The vampire asked before seeming to blur out of sight. In reality, she moved so quickly that in the blink of an eye, the Harpy was pinned against the wall with her mouth just shy of his neck. "I can make you my thrall with a single bite." She hissed in his ear, and took some measure of pleasure from his terrified whimpering. Looking over her shoulder, her rage cooled somewhat when she saw Grey Worm and his fellow Unsullied looked uncomfortable at the idea. "I do apologize for this Grey Worm, but war is something I understand better than all of your men put together. I have walked this world for thousands of years, and have slept quite a bit more. Believe me when I say there is no half measures when fighting this particular enemy."

"I understand, Lady Volkihar. Unsullied do not approve, but understand." He replied and looked away. He didn't need to see someone enthralled to another's will. Even if this was for the right reasons. He had been a slave himself for far too long to ever be comfortable with the idea, no matter its shape or form.

Daario, meanwhile, said nothing, but only looked with intrigue and curiosity. Reading about the Volkihar clan and the various strains of vampirism that were known to Tamriel was one thing, but seeing one in action? That was something else entirely. He watched as Serana bit into the man's neck and began the process of enthralling the Harpy. He started to scream, but Daario rushed over to cover his mouth. A few moments later, the screams subsided and the man's eyes seemed to go dead for a few seconds before they returned to normal. But the satisfied gleam in Serana's orbs said her power had him under her thumb as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand before casually licking up what blood remained on her pale skin. "Waste not." She explained before regarding her new thrall. "Now, let's talk, shall we?"

"I...of course, Mistress. I'm sorry if I displeased you earlier."

"That _is_ a useful trick." Daario mused aloud, amazed by the man's shift in personality. "I wish I had had access to that during some old interrogations. Would have been less….messy." He chuckled, but remained silent when the vampire shot him a dark smirk before turning back to the Harpy before them. Grey Worm understandably remained silent.

"How many Thalmor are here?" Serana asked.

"Six, that we know of."

"Do you know who they are, where we can find them? Or how to contact them at the very least?"

"They contact _us_. They keep their location a secret from us."

"No surprise, the Thalmor aren't stupid." Serana mused, having expected as much, but she had hoped for something more. Instead she looked to Daario for a moment before nodding her head, having come to some kind of decision. "Alright, this is how we're going to do this. You're going to go back to your Harpy allies. You will act as if nothing is wrong. But you're going to contact me, Grey Worm, or Daario the moment you can if the Thalmor return with new orders. In the meantime, I want to know everything you can tell us about the Sons of the Harpy."

After the Harpy had spilled his guts, Serana had the Unsullied tend to his injuries before sending him on his way. Grey Worm left with his men, having seen enough strange magic for one day, leaving her and Daario to their own devices. "Still think I'm worth pursuing, Daario?" She asked.

"I'll admit I have a new respect for what you can do, but if you had hoped to scare me off, you only did the reverse." He replied, a lopsided smirk on his bearded face as he leaned against the doorframe of the house they had broken into just a few minutes ago.

"Of course I did," Serana huffed, shaking her head. "You are something else." She didn't hide the smirk that played on her lips, though.

Daario chuckled and shrugged. "I live to impress, m'lady." His smirk disappeared though and he looked down a nearby street, where a small group of men and scantily clad women were congregating in front of a nearby brothel. "I was the son of a whore before I became a fighter in the Pits. I learned my craft there, perfected it, and joined the Second Sons. I have become so much more since Daenerys and Nakos marched on Yunkai, Astapor, and Meereen. I came from nothing, and I'll return to the dirt the same way. But because of the life I've had, I take what simple pleasures I can, for tomorrow might not ever come for a man such as myself."

"If this is your idea of getting to know each other, you're off to a good start." She admitted grudgingly, torn between trying to push him away to keep him safe from herself more than anything, and letting him closer because as loath as she was to admit it, she liked having him around. He didn't shy away from her, even after he had seen her enslave another man to her will. Nakos knew she could do it, but she had never used that particular power around him. Even though she doubted it'd have bothered him under the right circumstances, she preferred to deny her darker aspects as much as possible. And like Nakos, it was becoming quickly apparent that Daario didn't see her as a monster. It was an opinion she didn't share about herself, however. "You know what I am Daario….yet you still risk your health around me."

It wasn't a question, but Daario chose to answer her anyway, hearing the meaning behind her statement all too clearly. "Men are capable of truly monstrous things, Serana, and they don't need power like yours to be evil. You see yourself as a monster to be feared, but you don't give yourself enough credit, if you ask me. I've been around you long enough to see that." Daario looked downcast for a moment. "I've seen the evil of men. My own Second Sons were not always mine, they served the Titan's Bastard before me, and he was… brutal, and uncaring for a man in his position. I've been throughout the slaver cities and seen the cruelties men inflict on their own just because they can. I've seen children nailed to posts, left to rot and die in the desert sun, and serve as mile markers. These men needed no supernatural power to be evil, it is a choice. You choose to use what you were given, or cursed with, for something better than it was intended. That makes you a far better being than some of the men I've seen. Molag Bal may have reshaped you, but he didn't shape your choices to do with what he placed on you. You did."

"You and Nakos….he said the same thing, just with fewer words." Serana softly replied and looked up at the mercenary, a genuinely warm smile tugging at her dark lips. "Are you sure you aren't related?" Daario only laughed in reply.

* * *

 **Loredas, 20th of Evening Star, 5E 10**

 **King's Landing**

Nakos was waiting in the High Sparrow's room. The same exact room where Loras had his inquest. After giving it some thought, Nakos decided it would be best to keep Loras in the Royal Guard, not only to keep good ties with the Tyrells, but also to keep Loras close, in case the High Sparrow and the Faith Militant… or the Thalmor, tried anything. If he was at Highgarden, he would be too far to help. At least here, Nakos would be close to him. Or hang Loras up by his thumbs if he screwed up like he had again. Although, with the way Olenna had been hounding him since his return, Nakos doubted Loras would be giving him trouble again anytime soon.

Once the High Sparrow heard of the Tyrells' escape, he was fuming and wanted to see Nakos immediately. Nakos declined the invitation to the messenger, but snuck into the High Sparrow's room, so he could surprise the old man and have the upper hand. He wanted to play the Game, Nakos would give him a free lesson in setting up the situation with every advantage on his side. A lesson he was sure the High Sparrow wouldn't appreciate since he'd be on the losing end.

When the door opened and the High Sparrow walked in, Nakos slid into a dark corner. It was still afternoon, but Nakos was proficient enough that the shadows would hide him even now. He wasn't disappointed when the High Sparrow walked right by him without realizing it, and Nakos had to suppress the urge to chuckle. He waited until the old man had found the note he had planted under his simple pillow on his bed, before stepping out of the shadows. "It seems the Dark Brotherhood has taken an interest in you, High Sparrow."

To his credit, the old man didn't call out, but he still looked decidedly paler than usual when he turned to address Nakos. "It would seem so," he said, holding up the black hand marked piece of parchment. "Would you know anything about this?"

"Only what I've heard about them. Mostly from the times they've tried to kill me." Nakos admitted, a half-lie. "But hopefully, it's nothing more than a threat and they don't follow through with it. You wished to speak with me earlier, and now I assume your urgency for that talk is greater than ever now that you have that note. Do you have something you wish to say to me?"

"Loras and Margaery Tyrell." High Sparrow stated rather than asked.

"What about them?" Nakos asked innocently.

"They are no longer in the Black Cells. And I have heard that Ser Loras is once again back on the Royal Guard." The High Sparrow stated once again, but there was a just noticeable edge to his voice that said he didn't like it.

It seemed his plan to throw him off his game was working. Nakos had to make it a conscience effort not to smirk at his success so far. "So I have heard. And your point?"

"My point?" The High Sparrow huffed once. "I find it surprising that they just happened to disappear a few days after the inquest. You are the only one who has had issue with Ser Loras' arrest." The old man stared at the Redguard. "Did you have something to do with their escape?"

"I did not," Nakos replied. "I have witnesses that can say where I have been during the time of their likely escape." They'd support his alibi, but it'd be another lie on his part of course.

"Witnesses that would support you no matter what."

"Just like Olyvar," Nakos added, hiding the smirk that wanted to play on his lips. "Did you know he was murdered? I have people looking into his death, since I can't have vigilantes running around our city." The High Sparrow caught the subtle snub and scoffed. "Allow me to entertain the idea that you were right, and I did have something to do with the Tyrell's escape from your little charade of justice, what then? You'd try to arrest me? Kill me? You don't have the means to accomplish such a feat on your own, and you'd definitely bring war back to Westeros if you succeeded. _If_. The country needs stability in the face of change. Many people from Tamriel now live here, and many more have seen what lay beyond the Wall. You murder their hero, and you will have a civil war without end. You say you're a man of the people, you feed the hungry, you clothe the needy, you've done good things here. Yet the path you're determined to follow will ensure they die. Is that what you truly want?"

"What I want is for the laws of gods and men to be followed, no matter who is king." The High Sparrow said once again, even though a part of him knew Nakos was right. A very small part admittedly, but it was still there.

"And yet who decides what is law? You and your faith? Your holy text? You don't have the right to dictate who follows what law. The people chose me to serve Westeros as her ruler, and as ruler I have to decide the laws of men, to be followed and punished by the mortals who live here. The laws of the gods can be judged by the gods when we die. That is the way it was always supposed to have been. We take the god's justice into our own hands and we deny the gods their right to arbitrate their own justice. Would you be so arrogant as to deny the gods their own right to punish those who break their laws when the time is right?" Nakos leaned forward, knowing now he had the High Sparrow right where he needed him. The idea of offending the Seven by denying them their own rights was perfect.

The High Sparrow nodded, seemingly impressed by Nakos' way with words. Even he had to admit that if he were a lesser man, he might have even considered listening to this stranger's words and choose a different path, but he was certain of his path. He knew what he had been put on this world to do. "The people might have chosen you to rule, but evil yet lingers in your city and your country, your Grace. The misguided and unwashed masses still exist, even in your supposed better world."

Nakos shrugged and sat up straight again. "I can only help those who seek it, just like you. I will not force those who live in squalor to become more than what they choose to be. I give them all food and shelter as best I can, but in the end, I cannot live their lives for them. They must choose to improve themselves with what I can offer them."

"Just as I choose to follow the path the Seven have put in front of me, your Grace. To turn away from it now would mean turning my back on those I have helped since my arrival in the capital. By your own words, you cannot deny me my right to worship as I wish, nor those of the Sparrows that follow me."

"Oh, I do not deny you your right to worship any gods you choose, High Sparrow. That has always been the prerogative of the individual. I do, however, take exception to it when you organize an armed band of militants, and go around harassing everyone else and arresting people. If you seek to worship the Seven, then do so, but do it in peace, and not in conflict. If you continue to harass and harm people because they do not share your beliefs, then I will be forced into a more unfavourable position and then I will have to take action."

"I would expect nothing else, your Grace. We will never see eye to eye, I know this now, but I had hoped we might. You are a good man in your own way. Misguided, perhaps, and misled... but a good man."

Nakos only smirked and gave a jibe of his own. "As are _you_." With a nod of his head, he walked out the room, where Brynjolf was waiting. He had no doubt heard it all.

"I take it it went well?" The old thief asked, having a feeling he already knew the answer.

"For a fanatic, he's a reasonable sort." Nakos mused before turning to regard his old friend. "But keep an eye on him. You and Varys both. I doubt he will let the situation go."

Brynjolf chuckled. "I figured you'd say that. Oh, and before I forget, we've received word from Serana, and Arya. You're going to want to read the letters yourself."

Nakos sighed. " _This_ ought to be interesting."

* * *

 **Middas, 24th of Evening Star**

 **The Narrow Sea**

Ramsay was impressed by what Eldria had brought with her as several ships, both Boltons and Thalmor sailed south. Nestled in a velvet lined box was a pair of metal hands. Unlike most he had ever seen, these she said were fully functional. "Ah the benefits of magic, I imagine. You are quite the beauty and such a clever one as well." Ramsay grinned up at the Thalmor who only shrugged as she picked up the right dwemer hand.

"You'd be surprised what you can find these days. Sorine, a Dawnguard inventor and tinkerer, was the first to make a fully operational device like these. She rediscovered the means to making simple items like these hands. We simply improved on her...unimaginative inventions." The elf chuckled darkly as she slid the hand down firmly onto Ramsay's right stump.

After a brief incantation, the small gemstone on the wrist began to glow, and the gears began to move. Ramsay felt an intense bolt of pain shoot up his stump and up his arm when something pierced the skin and drove into the muscle underneath, but it faded almost as quickly. Whatever had pierced into the bone and sinew underneath his skin made it impossible to remove the hand, ensuring it wouldn't fall off on him. More spectacularly, he was beginning to feel the skin of the metal, like it was actual flesh. The magic involved fused his spirit into the gemstone, like it was possessing the new appendage. "Ow." He grumbled in mock pain, but was astounded to find that when he tried to flex the metallic fingers, they performed nearly as well as his old fingers had. "Well, this is a vast improvement."

"Remember to keep the thing well oiled. Once a day."

"Aren't you going to give me a sword, too?" Ramsay huffed impatiently.

"You don't have a lot of patience, do you, Lord Ramsay Snow?" Eldria chuckled.

Ramsay grinned and waggled his eyebrows suggestively before he said. "I like my dessert before dinner, what can I say?"

"I can relate." Before Ramsay could say a word, she grabbed his arm just below his new hand and pulled his index finger down so it touched the center of his palm. When it did, a six inch dwemer blade unsheathed itself from the top of his new metal hand. "As I said, we improved on Sorine's inventions."

"Are you sure I can't convince you to marry me?"

"Ramsay, enough." Roose called out, having had enough of his bastard son's quips and flirting.

"There's no need for that, Lord Roose," Eldria replied. "I can handle him if he tries anything." Before Ramsay could grab his second hand, she slipped it on over the left stump and nodded her approval of the work once it had fused to his body and spirit. Unbeknownst to either man, the Thalmor had made sure to put a magic kill switch among the enchantments on them, ensuring their obedience. Roose would bargain for his son's life since he was the only heir he had if the need ever arose, and Ramsay would not dare cross her when she revealed the truth of the dwemer hands. On the off chance Roose did forsake Ramsay, planning to father another son, Eldria had a backup plan for that as well.

"Will he still be able to fight as he used to?" Roose asked.

"Depends. I know it has probably been awhile since he's held a sword. So his skills may be… rusty."

"Beautiful, clever, and funny. And she says she only favors women." Ramsay laughed and grinned all the wider before he crossed his arms over his chest, marveling at the fact he could feel his new metal hands as they found their way under his armpits. He was going to have to get used to that. "I might be a bit rusty, but I'm sure I can scrape it off easily enough."

Roose nodded, listening far more to Eldria despite his distaste of her, having expected such an answer. It was, however, surprising she had managed to bring them the one thing Ramsay needed to be a whole man once again. His opinion of her had gone up considerably because of that simple act. That didn't mean he trusted her, though. There was still many questions that needed to be answered. "How much longer?"

"We're almost there," Eldria answered simply. "Have patience."

"It has been ten years since the Legion humiliated the Boltons, my family, my House. I can wait." Roose replied, but his tone suggested he wouldn't wait for much longer.

"You're not the only one seeking revenge, Roose." Cregan Karstark said as he approached the group. "The Kinslayer, the bastard Robb Stark, still lives, and we will not rest until he and his devil spawn are in the dirt. Then I want Nakos' head and _his_ devil spawn, and his fucking dragons, in the dirt right alongside him."

"Be careful what you wish for, Lord Cregan. You of all people should know it will not be that easy." Eldria informed the man, and stood from the small table that Roose had called his officers and herself to a strategy meeting, where she had revealed her gift to Ramsay. The fact she had been invited at all said two things to her. One, Roose wanted to keep an eye on her, and two, he trusted her enough to allow her to listen to his strategies, and even supply her own input. It wasn't much, but it was a lot more than she had hoped for so soon after meeting the Boltons.

"I never said it would be easy, but it is necessary. I will not suffer a kinslayer as my lord warden, and neither will the spirit of my cousin," Cregan scoffed.

"I understand, but attacking Nakos will be suicide. For the moment at least. To kill a dragon, you have to have every conceivable advantage, and a Dragonborn is a far more dangerous adversary. You lack numbers, resources, and most importantly, power. The Thalmor have these and more, but we know how to fight with more than sheer numbers. This is what we're doing now. We're going to isolate his allies, one by one." Eldria emphasized her point by tipping over the markers that were placed on a map of the world on the table. "And crush them, until Nakos has nothing left. But to accomplish this, we need power. And my superiors are in the process of acquiring the raw power we need, so you need to be patient and wait until the time is right. You'll have your revenge, I can guarantee you that much."

"Good." Cregan said, but just when Eldria thought she had him in the palm of her hand, he glowered down at her in open disgust. "You might have earned my lord Bolton's trust, but I'll never serve an elven woman, no matter how capable you think you are. I've had enough of you fucking foreigners to last me a lifetime."

Roose raised an eyebrow, while Ramsay grinned in curiosity, wondering what Eldria would do to answer the upstart Karstark. Eldria looked up towards the towering brute and walked her dexterous fingers to the collar of his heavy fur cloak. "Really? That's too bad. And here I thought that the Karstarks got the brains out of the Stark lineage." When they reached his neck, Cregan went to bat them away, but Eldria was the quicker. She glided them over his cheek, and sent a bolt of magic right through the base of his brain. He fell to the floor in a heap, his eyes wide and full of agony as his mouth opened and closed while body shaking spasms contorted him into a ball. His voice jerky mumbling, giving a mute testimony to the pain.

"Is there anyone else who wishes to speak about the 'fucking foreigners' that are trying to help you win this war against Nakos and his dragons?" Eldria asked innocently. When no one else stepped up to challenge her, she smirked and sat down at the table once more. "Good. I would hate to have to report back to my superiors that our allies became uncooperative. That tends to end very… messily all around."

"I have a question, two actually." Ramsay spoke up, his eyes alight in sadistic glee. "What was that neat trick, and can you teach me how to do that?"

At that, Eldria smiled sinisterly. "Only if you have a few decades of spare time, boy." She would never reveal the secrets of Arcana to humans if she could avoid it, especially more advanced spells like this one. The Agony Coil was not meant for lesser hands. She was rather pleased with the spell she had learned from Ancano. "But if you must know the name, it's an advanced spell called the Agony Coil. Think of it as direct neuro-electrical stimulation of your body's pain receptors, _all_ of them. Imagine all the worst kinds of pain you have ever experienced, times a thousand. Now imagine that pain going on all over your body, for as long as I wish. _He_ doesn't need to imagine it..."

"And I ask again, are you sure I can't convince you to marry me? We have so much in common, Lady Joroth." Ramsay stated, putting as much charm into his voice as he could. Once more though, he was disappointed when Eldria chuckled and shook her head. He wasn't completely deterred though and asked another question. "Fair enough, can I at least show you my favorite means of interrogation the first chance we get if you agree to use that nifty trick again?"

"Watch you flay a man alive? Hmm…" Eldria pondered for a moment. "While far messier than I'd prefer, I admit there is something to be said about watching someone work with their hands." Eldria said and stroked her chin in genuine thought before her green eyes lit up with malevolent glee. "You know what? I might very well take you up on that offer, Ramsay Bolton."

Roose had enough of the banter and stepped in between them. "Can we focus on the task at hand?"

"Yes, let's." Eldria motioned for him to follow and the two of them went into the captain's quarters. When the doors were closed and they were alone, Eldria's tone and body language became firm. "What is the rush?"

"You promised us vengance-"

"And you will get it," Eldria said, speaking before the last word was out of Roose's mouth. "But rushing is the perfect way to get yourself killed. You must have heard the stories of what Nakos is capable of."

Roose sneered and folded his arms. "That's all they are. Stories."

The Altmer shook her head slowly. "No, Lord Roose. They aren't."

Roose thought for a moment. "So if we're not attacking King's Landing, where are we going that could be a blow to Nakos?" Eldria only smirked and pointed to the map. Roose saw the location and shrugged. "Why there?"

"You will see, Lord Bolton. You will see."

* * *

 **Fredas, 26th of Evening Star**

 **King's Landing**

Jon Stark stood in the Tower of the Hand, looking out one of the windows, towards the east… towards Tamriel. Ever since he displayed the power of the _Thu'um_ ten years ago, and after Nakos had been crowned king, Nakos had sent him to train with the Greybeards so he could gain mastery over the dragonblood that flowed within him. Despite him being only half-Targaryen, it was enough for him to have the potential to learn some mastery over the _Thu'um_. As a result, it did not take as long for him as it did for others, who had to spend years at High Hrothgar to learn _one_ word. But at the same time, it was not as easy for him as it was for Nakos or Dany, and of course, he would never reach the same level or power as the. Jon spent ten years in Skyrim, leaving Westeros a few weeks after Nakos and Dany had been crowned. During his time at High Hrothgar, he gained mastery over the Unrelenting Force Shout, and of course, being raised in the North of Westeros, could not resist learning at least the first word of the Frost Breath Shout.

"Do you miss it?" Nakos' voice came from beside him, eliciting a small gasp from Jon. Nakos chuckled. "Sorry."

"No, you're not." Jon chuckled himself. "You enjoy doing that to people."

Nakos smirked. "Maybe. But you didn't answer my question. Do you miss it?"

"Skyrim?" When Nakos nodded, Jon shrugged. "A part of me does. But my home will always be Westeros."

"Of course it will be. I don't doubt that. But I am more concerned with your time with the Greybeards."

"Well, I've never had to kill anyone with my Shout. Not since I used to defeat the Night's King."

"So you've gained control over your Voice."

"I like to think I have."

Nakos thought for a moment. "Good," he said finally. "But beware. I would not want you to use it here in King's Landing unless you absolutely have to. The last thing we need is for Cersei or any of her… friends to find an excuse to make the city fear you, me, and Dany."

"I understand, Your Grace." Jon bowed and was silent for a moment.

"Has there been any other trouble out in the city?" asked Nakos.

"No, Your Grace," answered Jon. "Bronn and the city guard have done well. But seeing as we have a wise and just ruler, there hasn't been much to do regarding arresting troublemakers. Of course, we have the occasional pickpocket or thief, and a few Sparrows and Faith Militant causing trouble here and there. But nothing major."

"Make sure they stay on their guard," said Nakos. "I have a bad feeling that neither the High Sparrow nor Cersei are going to leave well enough alone." He looked over to Rhaelor and Tyrion, working at one of the desks. Daenerys was at another desk, going through letters.

Jon followed his gaze. "You expect her to target your children?"

"I don't know, but I am watching her every move. Just in case."

Jon looked back at Rhaelor and Tyrion for a moment before reaching another conclusion. "It's not them you're really concerned about though, is it?"

Nakos' brow furrowed in worry. "I'm always worried about Dany, if that's what you're asking. But she can take care of herself."

"I meant that ever since you heard about what was going on across the Narrow Sea. You've been more on edge than before, not since the battle with Dagon have you been this wound up."

Nakos took a deep breath. "We've received reports about Thalmor from across the Narrow Sea. They've armed the Sons of the Harpy with elven weapons and now the Faith Militant are armed with elven weapons."

"You think the Thalmor are here?"

"Either that or they're sending weapons across the Narrow Sea and arming the Faith Militant."

"I've heard a lot about these Thalmor when I was in Skyrim, but you're treating them almost as if they are as big a threat as Dagon was."

Nakos nodded. "They are, in a way. They were in a war with the Empire, which led to a treaty called the White-Gold Concordat. But the conditions of the treaty outlawed the worship of Talos in the Empire, formally disbanded the Blades, and delivered a large portion of southern Hammerfell into the control of the Aldmeri Dominion. The Emperor, Titus Mede II, never really had a say in the matter. He made these concessions to the Thalmor hierarchy in order to give the Imperial Legion time to recover its strength, as it had been decimated in the Battle of the Red Ring."

Nakos continued, "The ban enforced regarding the worship of Talos greatly angered the people of Skyrim. Talos originated from Skyrim and has been a beloved deity of the people of Skyrim for generations. The ban eventually led to the civil war and the Stormcloak Rebellion."

"All that from one group of men?"

"Technically they're elves," Nakos quipped with a smirk. "But yes."

"Seven hells," Jon muttered. "And now they're here in Westeros… and across the sea in Essos. What do you think they're up to?"

"From what my spies in Essos told me, the Thalmor are looking for some sort of energy source. And now they've apparently made some allies here in Westeros. But I have no idea what they can be up to. Whatever it is… I know it's not going to be good. The Thalmor know how to play the game, far better than even the Lannisters. The White-Gold Concordat caused a rift between the Empire and its allies, the Redguards and the Nords. They wanted to make the Empire weaker. I personally don't think they actually care all that much about Talos worship on principal, but it was a convenient excuse to rile the Nords against the Empire, making it look like the Empire had forsaken its roots. Past wars have shown that one sure way to get under the Nords' skin is to dictate to them who they can and cannot worship." Nakos took a sip of water before continuing.

"The other part of the treaty was that the Empire had to hand over the southern reaches of Hammerfell, the homeland of the Redguards, my people, to the Dominion. They claimed it was to prevent the pirate raids on their own homeland, but the truth was it was so that the Redguards would secede from the Empire in their entirety. They fought us for only four years before they declared a stalemate and they themselves signed the second treaty of Stros M'kai. We were never their real target."

Jon pondered on all that Nakos was telling him. "And now they're here in Westeros." His voice was almost a whisper as he thought about all the trouble the Thalmor could cause. "Gods help us." It was then that he noticed the Queen, Danaerys, sitting at the table. She had been silent all this while, listening.

But now she spoke. "You heart is here in Westeros, Nakos. But my worry is in Meereen. Those Elves would have no concern to the enslavement of humans again. All the work we did there may be brought undone."

Nakos nodded slowly. "I know. But we cannot fight them head on. They operate from the shadows. As must we. This isn't a fight won with weapons… not yet, anyway. We need to know their plans before we can move forward."

"And what if they attack before you are ready?" Tyrion joined into the conversation. "What if you know nothing of their plans when they make their move?"

"Then…" A fire kindled in Nakos' eyes. "We pray to the Nine… and then burn the enemy as they come. Unlike Dagon, we don't know how they will hit us yet. Dagon was very direct, he came at us from only one real direction. The Thalmor are interwoven among the general populations, and can slip in undetected, striking at us from anywhere they choose. We can't simply beat them back with numbers and strength of arms. We have to be able to fight a shadow war with them equally as well. That requires planning, and no small amount of good fortune."

"But how long have they been planning, I wonder," said Tyrion, eliciting a few seconds of silence from the rest of the group.

Before any of them could speak, the door to the Tower opened and Grand Maester Dercin briskly walked in, holding a small scroll in his hand. "News from Dragonstone, Your Grace. From Lord Stannis."

Nakos took the scroll and as he read it, his hands began to shake with anger. "It seems as though the Thalmor are making their move now. This is a letter from Lord Stannis Baratheon, asking for aid. Bolton and Karstark ships have been reported approaching Dragonstone, along with other ships. But Lord Stannis doesn't recognize their sigil."

"The Thalmor," Tyrion stated rather than asked. "When was the message sent?" he asked Dercin.

"I came as soon as the message arrived, my lord."

"So, a day at the most." Tyrion looked to Nakos. "Will you even have time to rally your men and women?" Nakos shook his head, and Tyrion bit his lower lip. "Then how do you expect to come to Lord Stannis' aid?"

Nakos glanced at him, and Tyrion knew that look. "The only way I know how. Get as many soldiers and healers onto the fastest ships we have, and move for Dragonstone. I am going on ahead."

* * *

 **Loredas, 27th of Evening Star**

 **Dragonstone**

By the time Nakos and Odahviing arrived at Dragonstone, the battle had already begun. Several ships were sieging Dragonstone from the water, catapulting stones, while thousands of soldiers were either rowing towards the shores, or already on the shore, fighting towards Dragonstone. The Baratheon forces held their own against the Boltons and the Karstarks, but were helpless against the Thalmor, who used their Destruction magic to its full advantage.

Nakos' blood began to boil at the sight of the Boltons and the Karstarks aiding an enemy of humanity. They didn't know the Thalmor like he did. The Dominion was merely using them like tools. He didn't think Roose would ever trust anyone from Tamriel, never mind the Thalmor, for anything. Apparently the Elves had quite the silver tongue in their ranks to manage to convince the Boltons of anything.

"What's the plan, _Dovahkiin_?" Odahviing asked.

"Drop me down onto the shores, then take care of the ships," Nakos said.

The red dragon growled, knowing what Nakos had in mind. With a roar, he dived down, pulling up at the last minute. Nakos leaped off the dragon's back and landed on the shores. He was dressed in his dragonbone armor and armed with his dual dragonbone swords. When the Baratheon soldiers saw him, they raised up a deafening cheer.

Nakos took in a deep breath, before Shouting, " **YOL… TOOR SHUL!"** A great stream of fire erupted, forming a barrier between the Baratheons, and the enemy. The eyes of the Dragonborn turned towards the Boltons, Karstarks and Thalmor, his rage now very real.

"Why did you come here, Thalmor? If you wanted to bring me down, you should have come for me, and me alone. Don't drag the rest of the world into your poisonous crusade!"

The Boltons and the Karstarks just about fled at the demonstration of Nakos' power, but the Thalmor stood firm. They didn't answer the Dragonborn's challenge, though.

Nakos expected as much. "You would die for such a pointless cause? For _revenge_?"

One of the Thalmor walked forward, but far enough that the heat would kill him. "Who said anything about bringing you down? We want all of Westeros and Essos to fall. The age of man is about to end."

"Not while I am alive, and you know I don't fall easily."

"Not in battle, no."

The Thalmor's response elicited a murmur from the Baratheons behind Nakos, and he knew what the Thalmor were trying to say. It was true that Nakos would not fall in battle or war, not with his _Thu'um_ or his dragons. They would have as much success killing him as they would tryin to kill Alduin. But they would have more success through politics, and Nakos knew that the Thalmor were more experienced than he was in that area. He would not be able to face off with them through politics, not without Tyrion's help.

He pushed the thoughts aside to focus on the task at hand. He pointed with his sword to their ships out on on the water. They looked back to see several ships burning and Odahviing flying above them. "As you can see, you won't have any backup,and you are trapped on this island. No way back to the Dreadfort. I will only ask you once. Surrender, and I will make sure you are treated well as prisoners of war."

"Why should we trust you?" A Bolton soldier asked.

"It's better than your alternative," Nakos quipped back. Several soldiers exchanged nervous glances with one another. Most of them were shaking, no doubt out of fear.

"You would listen to _him_?" A Thalmor asked. "You can't trust him, you know. He'll kill you as soon as you surrender."

"On my honor as King of Westeros, I promise you no harm will befall you… _if_ you surrender peacefully."

"Enough of this!" The same Thalmor that had spoken earlier pushed his fellow soldiers out the way and raised his sword above his head. Nakos didn't bother to draw his own sword. Instead, keeping his hands at his side, he cast an Ice Spike that struck the high elf in the chest and part of it came out the other side. He fell dead upon the spot without a groan.

"Anyone else?" Nakos quipped, half as a taunt, half as a warning. At first, none of them said anything. But then, to Nakos' surprise they all began cheering. A frown came upon Nakos' forehead. Why were they cheering?

"Your Grace!" One of the Baratheon soldiers yelled. When Nakos turned around, his heart sank. There was the castle… on fire. Nakos cursed at himself. This was a ploy to draw him away from the castle while the real threat was inside. His eyes burned with a righteous fury and he turned back to the Bolton and Karstark soldiers who were charging at him and the Baratheons.

" _ **YOL… TOOR SHUL!"**_ Fire erupted from Nakos' mouth and enveloped every single enemy soldier on the beach. Nakos didn't bother to watch as he quickly turned and ran towards the castle. The sounds of battle were still ringing as he ran past soldiers fighting. If his hunch was correct, then there were three people in that castle in _very_ grave danger. As he ran up the steps to the main gate, he was met by several Bolton and Kartsark soldiers who were facing off with Baratheon soldiers. He quickly cast some Destruction spells to turn the fight into the Baratheons' favor, but did not stop to assist in the fighting. The main gates were already wide open and just inside, he could see Stannis fighting alongside his soldiers. He was holding his own, but there was a Thalmor dirctly behind him, about to strike him down. Nakos didn't hesitate to draw his bow and send an arrow between his eyes.

"I thought that was you!" Stannis exclaimed when he caught sight of the Redguard.

"Where are Shireen and Selyse?!" Nakos had to raise his voice so he could be heard over the clamor of fighting.

"Hiding in their chambers. I'll go with you!"

Nakos put a hand up. "No! Stay here and fight with your men! I'll get them out of here!" Nakos rushed up the myriad of stone steps fighting off Boltons, Karstarks, and Thalmor until he reached the upper chambers. He kicked down the doors and saw several Bolton and Karstark soldiers surrounding Selyse and Shireen, as if holding them hostage, and all their eyes were on him.

Nakos didn't hesitate. " _ **TIID!**_ " Time slowed to crawl and Nakos put an arrow in between each of their eyes… or in them. Once the effect wore off, he began rushing to their side. "Are you alright, Lady Selyse? Lady Shireen?"

He didn't get three strides inside before he suddenly felt paralyzed, unable to move, and he collapsed to the ground like a limp fish. He could see, smell, taste, and hear everything else. But he could not move at all.

"NOO!" Selyse screamed and rushed over to his side. "Your Grace!" Other Thalmor came and pulled her off of him.

"You can't do anything to help him," said a female voice from the doorway. "He's paralyzed, and will continue to be paralyzed for as long as my friend here can hold the spell. And that could be a very, _very_ long time."

Nakos could not move his eyes, but he could see two legs and the fringes of a robe come into his line of sight.

Whoever was standing above him groaned. "Ugh. Pick him up."

Nakos felt himself being picked up and found himself face-to-face with a Thalmor. She reminded him of Elenwen, but this Altmer was much younger looking. Not as many wrinkles on her face, though it didn't mean she was just as old.

"So this is Nakos Nalldiir, the mighty Dragonborn, now King of Westeros," she said mockingly. "Look at you. You can't even move." She smirked. "My name is Eldria Joroth, by the way. It's nice to meet you, too." With a thrust of her head, she signaled for the Thalmors holding him to drag him back. Another Thalmor was holding his hand up, his hand glowing with green energy. He was the one holding the Paralysis spell.

"So you came to rescue the Baratheons," Eldria said. "Just like I knew you would." She smirked. "Yes, I knew you would be here. You're predictable. Always looking to protect the innocent. You had to know that it would be your downfall."

 _This was a trap_ , Nakos thought, mentally kicking himself for not foreseeing it.

"Is he here?" a familiar voice came from the doorway.

"Ah, Lord Bolton," the Thalmor smiled evilly. "You found us."

Roose Bolton walked into Nakos' field of view and when he saw how helpless he was, he made a triumphant smile, though his lips never parted. "Hello, Your Grace." His mocking tone was evident. "It's so good to see you again."

Another man walked into the room, and when Nakos saw his dwarven metal prosthetics, he had an idea who he is: Ramsay Bolton, the bastard son of Roose. "Ah, so this is the great King of Westeros. Whom the people of Skyrim call the Dragonborn." He chuckled evilly. "Not much powerful right now, though, are you?" He walked up slowly to Nakos. "Oh, the things I wish I can do to you right now. I'm still getting used to these new hands, so I'm not as… dextrous as I used to be." Ramsay looked to Roose. "My father, on the other hand…"

"There'll be no flaying Nakos," Eldira interrupted. "We need him alive."

Roose slowly turned to look at Shireen and Selyse. "And what about them?"

Eldria followed his gaze and smirked. "You can do what you want to them."

Nakos screamed internally. He tried desperately to move, but the Thalmor agent holding the Paralysis spell did not waver. Nakos was helpless. He _felt_ helpless. Roose only smiled ever so slightly as he turned and began to slowly walk to the Baratheon women. He crouched in front of them and brandished a knife. "Don't worry, my ladies. This won't take long."

Before he could do anything, the door to their chambers burst open, and in walked Bolton soldiers, holding Stannis Baratheon hostage. "Look who we found!"

"Ah, Lord Stannis," the Thalmor woman teased. "You're just in time. We were about to flay your wife and daughter. But now that you're here, you can bear witness before you die yourself."

Stannis looked at Nakos frantically. "Your Grace, do something!"

The Thalmor woman clicked her tongue. "I'm afraid he can't. My friend there is holding a Paralysis Spell. As long as he holds it, Nakos can't move or speak… and therefore can't Shout. He's helpless… and he will watch helplessly as we kill all three of you." She turned to Roose. "As you were."

Roose nodded. "Pick Lady Selyse up." Several soldiers did so. He held the knife up in her face. "Don't worry, my lady. I've had years of practice."

"NO!" Stannis broke free from the soldiers holding and took a sword from one of their sheaths. With a mighty swing, he decapitated two of the nearest soldiers. But he did not do much else as Bolton, Karstark, and Thalmor soldiers were on him in an instant, their swords rising and falling on him. Shireen and Selyse could only scream and watch as her father was cut down before her.

As Roose turned to watch, Selyse snatched the dagger from his hand and jammed the dagger into his shoulder. He groaned and gave her a backhand, sending her to the ground in a heap. "You should not have done that," he said as he pulled the dagger from his shoulder. Without hesitation, he stabbed Selyse in the belly and twisted. "I was going to flay you, but this will be just as satisfying."

Shireen let out a scream and crawled to her mother's side, trying to stop the bleeding with her hands. "NOO! MOTHER!"

Selyse said nothing, but weakly raised her hands to touch her daughter's face, then she went limp, her arm falling to her side.

"Now as for you," Roose said, pointing the dagger at the young woman. "You, I will take my time with."

"Get away from me, you bastard!" Shireen screamed and ended up being backhanded by Ramsay. The Dwemer metal of his prosthetics merely flicking against Shireen's cheek was enough to send the young woman to the ground.

"Watch your mouth… or I'll make you use it another way," the bastard said with an evil smirk.

Roose pulled his son back. "Enough. Her lips will be the first to go. Then her tongue." He gestured for his men to pick her up. "If you don't struggle, my lady, it won't hurt as much."

Shireen still struggled to no avail. The soldiers were much stronger than she was. As Roose placed the blade on her skin, there came a deafening roar and the rear wall of the chambers exploded inward, stone and fire crashing inside. Everyone ducked for cover from the giant stones as they flew in all directions.

There was Odahviing, hovering at the window. Everyone, or the Boltons and Karstarks, al least, stared in horror. The Thalmor stared mostly out of surprise. The Thalmor holding the Paralysis spell against Nakos was distracted enough that he dropped the spell for a moment. It was all Nakos needed.

" _ **HUN KAAL ZOOR**_!" An ethereal portal opened and out stepped a ghostly figure, armed with a two-handed greatsword. Everyone hesitated for a split second before rushing to attack the new arrival. The ghost made short work of them.

Nakos conjured an Ice Spear and sent it into the head of the Thalmor who had held him prisoner. The force of the spell took the elf's head clean off. Gaining strength, he joined Hakon One-Eye in the fray, cutting down Boltons, Karstarks, and Thalmor alike, until only Eldria, Roose, and Ramsay were left.

Nakos pointed his dragonbone swords at Eldria's throat, breathing heavily. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right here, right now."

Eldria put her hands up, but a smirk was still on her lips. "It's not your style. You and I both know that."

Nakos looked at the Thalmor with rage in his eyes. "You presume a lot, Eldira." Nakos looked to Roose and Ramsay and smiled a sinister grin. "After what you three have pulled today, I'm liable to give anything a go. Tell me, do you three know what happened to the Slave Masters of Meereen?"

Roose only shrugged nonchalantly. "I've heard rumors."

"Well, you're about to get a first-hand experience."

Several Baratheon soldiers by now had arrived, no doubt from hearing Shireen's screams and the roar of Odahviing. At a nod from Nakos, they apprehended the Boltons and placed them in chains. "What should we do with them, Your Majesty?"

"Chain them and send them to King's Landing by boat," the Redguard answered. "I want guards on them at all times, and I mean… _all_ times. Even when they relieve themselves."

"And what about her?" One soldier pointed to Eldria.

"Yes, Your Grace," Eldria smirked. "What about me?"

Nakos pretended to stroke his chin in thought, before that same sinister grin crossed his features. "The Black Cells are rather nice this time of the year, my dear. The Dark Brotherhood and I have some questions for you, and depending on your answers, that will determine whether or not you get to see your precious Alinor again, or if I send them your head."

"And how do you expect to stop me from using magic?"

Nakos fished into his pocket, and withdrew a black metal ring. He flipped it around in his hand. "You see this? I designed this with your Justiciar wizards in mind, Eldira. It is a ring that nullifies magicka in its wearer."

Nakos leaned down and showed the ring's inner edge. It had several fish hook like barbs all pointed in the same direction. "See these barbs? It makes the ring easy to slip on a thumb or finger, but try to remove it? And it will do what your Bolton allies just tried on the Baratheons here. It'll strip the flesh right down to the bone of the digit it's placed on."

Eldria's smile quickly faded and only watched as Nakos placed the ring on her right ring finger. She could feel the magicka inside her already being hindered.

"Take her away!" Nakos ordered and the Baratheons took the enemies away.

"Your Grace…" Shireen asked timidly, still hovering over her mother's body. "What about my parents?"

Nakos helped Shireen up. "We shall mourn them. Have some of the men gather their bodies for transport to Storm's End. They should be given their proper farewells there in their home."

Shireen looked to Nakos, and she saw the fires of rage in his eyes. She knew that fire, even as a young girl, she had seen it in him when he prepared to go to war against Dagon the monster.

"Come, my lady," Nakos guided her to the dragon. "I'll take you with me."

' _They came into my lands, attacked my people, and declared open war. If it's war you want Queen Erisare Greywatch, then you shall have it.'_ Nakos thought, his jaw clenched tight.


End file.
